บท 15: Studio

Song: Frank Ocean-pink matter

A/N: Some of you may have noticed that I'm trying to include more perspectives. I might not do it again, though—unless you guys like it!

March, 29, 2003

Jaxon's POV

Sitting across from André 3000 was unreal, but I tried not to show it. I slid the contract toward him—85% with a $1.5 million signing bonus. I'd been thinking about this for weeks, figuring out the right numbers. Now, it was time to see what he thought.

"Here's the offer, man," I said, keeping my voice steady. "85% and the signing bonus. Everything's laid out."

André nodded, his face calm as he flipped through the papers. I could tell he was thinking it over, weighing it all carefully. The room was quiet for a minute until he finally looked up, still composed.

"Looks good," he said. "But let's tweak it. Drop me to 80% so I can bring someone in with me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"My man, Big Boi," André replied. "I don't make moves without him."

I hadn't planned on signing both of them, but this wasn't just any artist—it was Outkast. And if I could have both, why not?

I leaned back, nodding. "Alright, 80%. And Big Boi's in too."

We shook hands, sealing the deal. Tomorrow, we were headed to the studio to make magic happen.

--- March, 30, 2003---

Third Person

The next day, Jaxon arrived at the recording studio, a small but functional spot he was using temporarily. It wasn't the most high-tech place, but it had the right equipment for the session. The vibe was low-key, which fit André perfectly.

André showed up on time, dressed casual, no entourage. He was the kind of artist who didn't need fanfare to make an entrance. They exchanged greetings, but there wasn't much talking. They both knew why they were here—to create.

Jaxon stepped into the vocal booth, adjusting his headphones. The instrumental began to play softly in the background, a smooth melody that matched the calm atmosphere of the room. He cleared his throat and let the music take over.

[Intro: Jaxon]

And the peaches and the mangos

That you could sell for me...

Jaxon's voice floated gently over the track. It was effortless, like he wasn't even trying. The words came out naturally, and André nodded slightly, leaning against the console, appreciating the flow.

[Verse 1: Jaxon]

What do you think my brain is made for

Is it just a container for the mind?

This great grey matter...

Jaxon's voice grew a little more intense, but still controlled, as he sang the verse. His delivery was thoughtful, introspective, as though he was working through the questions as he sang.

Sensei replied, "What is your woman?

Is she just a container for the child?"

That soft pink matter...

The way Jaxon's voice lingered on "soft pink matter" made the line hit harder, like he was letting the listener sit with it for a second. The room was still, everyone focused on the music.

[Chorus: Jaxon]

Cotton candy, Majin Buu, oh, oh, oh

Close my eyes and fall into you, you, you

My God, she's giving me pleasure...

The chorus came in softly but powerfully. Jaxon wasn't over-singing—he was letting the melody and the emotion carry it. There was something tender about the way he sang the word "pleasure," making it feel intimate.

Jaxon's POV

I could feel the vibe in the room shift as the song started to come together. André was listening closely, not saying much, but his nods told me everything I needed to know. This was working.

I got ready to head into the second verse, letting the music guide me.

[Verse 2: Jaxon]

What if the sky and the stars are for show

And the aliens are watching live

From the purple matter?

The words flowed smoothly, and I stayed in the pocket. There was a dreamlike quality to the verse, the kind that makes you think but doesn't pull you out of the vibe. I just kept going, feeling out each note.

Sensei went quiet then violent

And we sparred until we both grew tired

Nothing mattered...

I leaned into the lines about sparring, letting a little grit come through. The track needed that edge here, a little tension before it eased back into the chorus.

Third Person

André hadn't moved much, but his eyes were locked on Jaxon as he sang. There was a quiet intensity to his focus, like he was analyzing every note, every word, trying to feel out the emotion behind it.

Jaxon moved into the chorus again, his voice as steady and soulful as before.

[Chorus: Jaxon]

Cotton candy, Majin Buu, oh, oh, oh

Close my eyes and fall into you, you, you

My God, giving me pleasure

Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure

Pleasure...

By now, the melody had fully settled into the room. It wasn't overpowering, just soft and hypnotic. André leaned back in his chair, clearly vibing with it, letting the music wash over him.

over matter..

the beat changes

Then, it was André's turn.

Jaxon's POV

I stepped back from the mic, giving André the space he needed. He adjusted his headphones slightly, moving toward the booth. The track was ready for him, and when he started, it was like he'd been waiting to jump in all along.

[Verse 3: André]

(Hey, hey)

Since you been gone, I been having withdrawals

You were such a habit to call

I ain't myself at all, had to tell myself, "Naw

She better with some fella with a regular job..."

André's flow was smooth, like he wasn't even trying. The words came naturally, and you could hear the subtle pain behind them. It wasn't over the top, just real—like he was talking to an old friend.

I didn't wanna get her involved

By dinner Mr. Benjamin was sitting in awe

Hopped into my car; drove far

Far's too close and I remember my memory's no sharp...

His voice had this laid-back energy, but He was telling a story, letting the listener feel every word without forcing it. It was classic André—chill but impactful.

Butter knife, what a life, anyway

I'm building y'all a clock, stop, what am I, Hemingway?

She had the kind of body that would probably intimidate

Any of 'em that were un-southern, not me, cousin...

André kept it moving, his words painting vivid pictures. He didn't rush, didn't push. Just let the track carry him.

If models are made for modelin'

Thick girls are made for cuddlin'

Switch worlds and we can huddle then

Who needs another friend? I need to hold your hand

You'd need no other man, we'd flee to other lands...

His flow was so easy. It was the kind of verse you had to listen to a few times to catch everything, but it left a mark.

Third Person

André stepped back from the mic, letting the last of the beat fade out. The room was still for a moment, as if everyone was processing what had just been laid down. Jaxon stepped out of the booth.

big boi gave him a nod, smiling slightly. "This one's dope, man."

Jaxon felt a rush of relief. He could tell they were impressed, even though they weren't the type to make a big deal out of it.

"Yeah, this one's solid," André said, grabbing his jacket.

They didn't hang around too long after that. André and Big boi gave Jaxon a quick handshake before heading out. No huge celebration, just a quiet acknowledgment that they had created something special.

A/N: I'm feeling a bit lost on where to go next. I would really appreciate your ideas in the comments. Your input is very much needed!