The next morning, I arrived at the music studio at Hotzen Night.

When I entered his music room, the room was almost full of musical instruments, drums, electronic organs, cellos, and so on. And he himself was sitting in the middle of a pile of instruments, holding a guitar and tuning the strings.

When he saw me coming, he raised his head and threw me a sheet of music.

I looked closely, and it was the song I sold him that time, "Dark Sound Tsuka".

Just as he was about to ask, he threw two words without warmth, "Fill in the words." ”

Inexplicably, I replied a little angrily: "I'm sorry, I'm only good at composing, not good at writing lyrics, besides, isn't Mr. Huo ...... when he came to me?"

"I didn't say I came to you just to write music." This time he didn't lift his head.

I was stunned, I should have defined it word by word with him, and I took a deep breath, "Isn't it too irresponsible to hand over the work of lyrics to an unprofessional person like this?" ”

"No, you're the composer." He played a few notes intermittently, as if he were auditioning.

"What?" As far as the seven words themselves are concerned, I find it difficult to understand.

He looked at me with a cold look in his eyes, as if he didn't bother to explain, "You are a composer, you understand the connotation of the song, and the words you write will be more compatible with the song itself." ”

"That can't ...... either"

"I didn't say I'd use the words you wrote." He flipped through the sheet music and played it according to one piece, "Two days later, show it to me at eight o'clock in the morning." ”

Obviously a few years younger than me, but his momentum, strength and even IQ are not inferior.

This was the beginning, I reminded myself, so I took a steady breath and walked out of the studio with the score.

It turns out that interlacing is not an empty phrase, it is one thing to know the connotation of the song, it is one thing to be able to express it in words, and it is another thing to be able to match the rhythm of the song after expression.

How to write this kind of literary language for the song is indeed a difficult task.

After a day of struggle, at noon the next day, I was already sitting at my desk and couldn't help but sigh.

"Alas......" My 17th sigh had not yet fallen, and the sighs that followed me had already sounded.

"What are you sighing about?" I looked at Sara sullen as she was stuck on the couch with her head propped up, "When Mr. Bedell leaves, didn't you just have a chance to meet Ivy, why aren't you unhappy?" ”

"Ruori ......," Sara said gloomily, "You say, doesn't our Ivy love me?" ”

I almost rolled my eyes out, could it be that people who are caught in the mire of love have to be so complaining and sensitive, and suffer from gains and losses?

"Honey, don't you look like a little girl in your first love, okay? He loves me at every turn, he doesn't love me, otherwise I'll find you a rose, you count the petals, and the double number loves you and the singular doesn't love you. "I'm so angry and funny.

"Not really." She said gloomily, "It was yesterday...... Yesterday Ivy broke up with me......"

"Huh?" Rao is also terrified, "You mean...... Why? ”

"She said she was tired, so she might as well leave it at that."

"How is it possible, she cares so much about you." Even if the love in words is fake, those jealous eyes will never be fake.

"Maybe she doesn't really care about me as much as she thinks, or rather, doesn't care about me at all." Sara smiled suddenly, but instead of smiling, she was sad.

"No, it won't be." I thought, "Maybe there's a reason?" You think, you have pressure, and her pressure must be not small, not only from your father's opposition, but also from her parents' opposition, under such pressure, it is inevitable that she will have no confidence in your future, and it is human nature to want to give up. ”

"But I still face it with her, she gave up like this, didn't she think about my feelings?" Sara was a little excited, but slowly calmed down, her expression more sad than before, with a bit of sadness, "Or rather, she really never cared about me, at least not that much." ”

"Sara, don't say that, you won't."

"Then you say, why can she say the breakup so easily?" Sara was determined to drill the horns, "If I really cared, I wouldn't want to give up no matter what." ”

She ......," I was speechless, not knowing how to retort, "So, let's look at it from another angle, you know, Ivy was hostile to me the first time we met. ”

Sara stared at me quizzically.

Thankfully, she was finally relieved from her lingering thoughts, and I sighed, "To be exact, it's jealousy like rivals, it's the instinct of everyone in love, and that's how I can tell she loves you." ”

"Really?" Her eyes regained some sparkle.

"Really, and more than once."

"What else?"

"Isn't that enough?" I glanced at her helplessly, "What could be more telling than being jealous?" ”

"Not enough."

I never knew that a person could be stubborn to this extent when it came to caring about something. It's just that the weird idea of dealing with that Horzen night whim has drained my IQ lately, and I really can't spare the energy to deal with anything else.

I shook my head, it was really painful, "I think what needs to be solved urgently at the moment is not the obvious question of whether she loves you or how much she loves you, but how to find a way to make both parents accept you, as long as this difficulty is over, Ivy's psychological pressure is eliminated, and everything can be clear." ”

"You're right, but what can be done? You know, my father ......," Sara furrowed her brow again.

"No matter how stubborn and tough he is, he is still your father after all, and the family affection is indelible, I think, grasp this, maybe you can find a way to break through."

She looked at me, her eyes rolling thoughtfully.

One obstacle has not been removed, and another obstacle has followed, and I seem to have found myself in such a predicament recently.

When Hotzen's cold eyes glanced at my lyrics very lightly and said "rewrite" leisurely, the cold in my heart was comparable to the temperature in his eyes all the time.

Although it is not unexpected.

I picked up the lyrics and turned to leave.

"Wait," he ordered indifferently behind me, "change it here." ”

I looked around the room, which was littered with musical instruments, and couldn't seem to find anything that would normally be called a table, chair, or bench.

Luckily, there was a piano, and I sighed, sat down on the bench, and changed it as I played.