whenshewasnice | Envy's Apartment, The Hegemony Compound, Ribeirao Preto, Wednesday Afternoon

Envy hadn't been back to the universe she was from since she'd escaped its clutches at the end of December, after that fiasco with the portals that had left her stranded in LA for the better part of two months. The home studio set-up she had inside her apartment at the Compound combined with multiversal internet had made it possible for her to work on her songs at home and to work remotely with her team.

But now, she couldn't avoid it any longer. She needed to go to an actual studio to record the final, producer-approved version of her song for the Winifred Hailey movie, and she needed to meet with her stylist for some fittings, and she also needed to take care of at least a dozen other things that required her to actually be present in a physical capacity.

And so, she was on the phone with Portalocity.

"Look, I only want full confirmation that your service will not shut down unexpectly, again, and trap me away from where I live."

She was in full-on icy-voiced Envy mode, perfectly calm but very definite. But it wasn't producing the desired results: she was still getting the vague customer service jabber that didn't really mean anything.

"I see." Time to switch strategies. The change in her tone to sweetness should've put the person at the other end of the line on high alert. "Well, of course you can't promise anything, but it would be a real shame if you were to put the Hegemon of this universe in the awful situation of trapping his spouse across the multiverse - again, I might add." A beat. "Yes, that Hegemon," she said, the saccharine practically dripping from her words, "Peter, mm-hm."

Oh, now they were getting somewhere. Was she proud of tweaking the truth a little? No. But was she proud of getting what she wanted? Yes.

"Yes, that's what I thought. Thank you."

[ooc: NFB but open!]

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"Or just horrifically murdered, full stop," Envy replied, far too brightly.

Her fingers were picking random notes, as if to warm up.

"You did come close a few times," Peter said, sounding... jolly, mostly.

"I think that's just a side effect of working with you, honestly."

There was something oddly natural about the way her fingers seemed to go from plucking random notes to something more coherent, something more like the beginning of a song. Because it was one.

It sounded... relaxed, somehow, by Envy's starndards. Leisurely? Something. And when she started singing, her voice was sweeter than what she tended to go for. Probably why this one was going to a movie and not on her next album. "It hurts to turn the radio on, stamina's gone, my spirit is weak." That wasn't entirely Envy's usual mode, either. "Because every time I start to move on, keep hearing that song, I'm brought to my knees."

Her tone was like a light shrug: an 'oh well'. But the next part maybe offered an explanation of sorts. As much as Envy's songs ever explained a damned thing. "To permanently see in reverse, take the remorse out of defeat: Because everything that's under my skin, where I end and begin, still belongs to me."

But here came the refrain, and Envy closed her eyes: "Oh, only silence can restore the sense of place I had before; oh, only silence can repair my sense of self I lost somewhere."

Peter had never been much for music, she knew that. He liked hearing her play live because it took away some strange barrier in his mind; her voice charming and calm all at once, carrying a melody that could actually get under his skin.

Peter still wasn't much for music, but he loved hers a little more every time she sang.

His finger tapped against his knee and he watched, head tilted, attention centered on nothing but her.

Whereas her attention seemed to be mostly inwards. Fingers on strings and words on her lips. Small things like that. "I'm fine to sit and stare at the door, can't run anymore, too weary to stand. Abandon the effect with the cause, my life is on pause, it's out of my hands." Now, those may have been lines inspired by the whole LA debacle. Maybe. There was something soothing to her tone, light and gentle. "To perfectly perform in reverse, there's no way to rehearse, there's nothing to plan. Because everything that's under my skin, where I end and begin, that's who I am."

And back to the refrain. Subtle stress on every other syllable, giving it the faintest quality of a mantra: "Oh, only silence can restore the sense of place I had before. Oh, only silence can repair my sense of self I lost somewhere."

But then there was a shift in tone, some lightness lost in favour of quiet sincerity. Her eyes opened, and she was watching him. "Because the last time I let myself feel this way, it was a long, long time ago. And now we get so scared, and we get so scared to be nowhere left alone." A breath. "Because the last time you let yourself feel this way, it was a long, long time ago. And now we get so scared, and we get so scared to be nowhere left alone." And the rhythm picked back up somewhat, and Envy's gaze returned to her hands. Grand finale.

"Because it's now or never now, it's now or never, now, now, now."

She repeated the line several times, each just as sweet as the last, but winding down.

And then the last refrain of "It's now or never now, now, now..." faded together with the last note.

Peter gave her a muted applause, not wanting to wreck the fading music too much.

"I like it," he said. "It's... 'bright', comes to mind."

"I know," Envy agreed with a small nod. "It's not really what I would usually do. Not entirely."

"How do you feel about it?" Peter asked.

Envy shrugged one shoulder. "I like it, but I would never put it on one of my records. It's not me." Small parts of it were, of course, but it wasn't enough. "Don't know if I'll ever even sing it at my shows, unless the movie becomes a hit and there's marketing value in it."

"Hope they paid you well, then," Peter said.

"It was more about the experience than it was about the money," Envy replied, keeping her shrug more just a tone thing, this time. "Portalocity fuck-up notwithstanding, obviously."

"So did you get what you were looking for?"

"All I was really looking for was finding out what it's like."

Her fingertips were tapping quietly against one edge of the guitar.

"It's not always obvious what's a good fit without trying it," she added, after a pause. "I wouldn't say I wouldn't do this again, because it jogs the brain in a different way and that's usually good for other creative processes, too." She'd written another song she was very pleased with concurrently with writing this one, after all. "But it's not something I'm going to actively seek out in the future."

Envy's Apartment, The Hegemony Compound, Ribeirao Preto, Wednesday Afternoon

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