Becoming A Butterfly (The Butterfly Chronicles) by Mia Castile Read Free Book Online Page B

who did he think he was?
     
    “ That’s the deal: my silence for our demo mixed and website updated. Or I tell the world who you are,” he countered.
     
    “ I don’t know anything about mixing. It’s not like I don’t want to help you. I can’t.” He ignored me, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a flash drive.
     
    “ This has our music and the program to mix it. There’s also a doc with all the info of how I want the songs ordered and other deets. You’ve got a week.”
     
    “ A week isn’t long enough; I have a history paper due Friday, work, and I do have a life,” I declared.
     
    “ Two lives actually.” He turned and walked away, leaving me staring after him with my mouth hanging wide open. I would have rather paid him off than have to do this for him.
     
    When I got home my mom was rushing for the door, her purse in hand. “Where are you off to?” I asked, surprised to see her home at that time.
     
    “ I have to take Lana to the eye doctor, and we’re late,” she said as she turned to the stairs and called, “Lana, come on.” They were so worried about her vision since mine was so poor. Luckily, she didn’t inherit the same genes of a great-great-great grandfather who was blind as a bat. She stomped down the stairs.
     
    “ You are not wearing that out.” My mom’s eyebrows crinkled as she surveyed Lana’s short skirt and belly shirt. She was wearing stuff like that a lot these days.
     
    “ Why not? I look cute!” she exclaimed.
     
    “ You look like you’re trying to look sixteen, and even at sixteen I don’t think I’d let you wear that.” My mom pointed up the stairs. “Change, now.”
     
    Lana looked like she was ready to burst into tears; she ran stomping up the stairs and slammed her door. I wanted to follow her and ask her if she was OK because that seemed like an extreme reaction to being told to change, but I didn’t think it would have been well-received.
     
    “ You weren’t nearly as temperamental as she is when you were her age,” Mom sighed.
     
    “ Welcome to puberty,” I said, shrugging. “You guys have fun.” I made my way to the kitchen; I needed a snack, and I had work to do.
     
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
    When I reached the kitchen, I mixed up a sour cream dip with some of my mom’s gourmet spices. She was always purchasing products from in-home parties at her friends’ houses. I grabbed a bag of carrots and retreated to my room. I loaded the program from the flash and read through the doc. The title said “Cate’s Ashes.” It had three pages of instructions. I wasn’t sure if I could do all this in a month, let alone a week. I spent a few hours watching YouTube videos, and when I was confident that I understood it, I loaded the first track. It had heavy drums in the beginning with the acoustic picking up; the lead vocal was really good and seemed to stay on key. I envisioned a smoky room with Chase playing bass standing next to two other guys playing the keyboard and guitar. The lead singer dressed in black with eyeliner and jet black hair—messy around his face, but not too long. He would definitely be dreamy. I felt as if he were singing directly to me, and I found myself swaying to the music. The voice was a bit intoxicating. I listened to all the songs before I began to mix the first track. I messed with the sounds a little and made the guitar a little crisper. Then I moved on to the next track. It began with the piano, and the drums came in almost immediately. I lowered the drums and raised the guitar again. I continued through the ballads and the rocking dance tunes. In all, I edited eleven tracks. I put them back on the flash and moved on to my homework and history paper, satisfied with my first day’s work.
     
    It was late; I was already in bed when my computer dinged. I rose to check it, finding Henry had messaged me.
     
    Henry Emmitt: Are you around?
    Farrah Leevar: Yeah, here, how are you?
     
    I rubbed my eyes and put on my