The soundproof booth in the famous London studio was a small room of heavy quiet. Outside the thick glass, the Aether team, engineers, producers, and Silas Trent, worked with the serious focus of a surgical crew. Inside, Jax, Kellan, Rhys, and Nick faced their musical instruments. This was not a normal practice session; this was the most important moment. This song was the anchor.
Rhys carefully connected the last cord to his custom electric guitar. The wood felt cool and smooth under his fingers. He could feel the nervous energy, the silent knowledge that this track, named "Iron Anchor," was their honest confession. It was a statement about their mutual fight against the easy trap of celebrity life. He looked over at Jax, who stood alone at the microphone. Jax wore large noise-canceling headphones, his mind already far away, deep inside the music.
"We are ready for the first try, just focus on getting the foundation right," the lead producer's voice clicked into their earpieces. "Rhys, let's hear that opening guitar part. Make it heavy, like a sad farewell."
Rhys changed his position slightly. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers hard into the strings, starting a slow, deep, and distorted sequence of chords. The sound felt like the painful drag of a huge metal chain scraping over stone. It was a sound that carried the heavy weight of millions of watching eyes and endless business agreements.
Nick began the drum beat. It was not a fast rock rhythm, but a measured, slow, heavy pulse. The sound of a captive heart trying to beat free. Every single hit on the kick drum was deliberate, thudding deep into the floor, clearly signaling the song's theme of being trapped.
The signal passed to Jax. He stood still for a moment, letting the sound fill him completely. Then, he leaned close to the microphone. He poured all the cold fear he had felt into the song: the anxiety of being in the motorcade, the burden of protecting Aria's secret freedom while still being a famous star himself.
He sang, his voice low and almost like speaking, filled with a deep tiredness that went far beyond his public celebrity image:
This velvet lining has a chain beneath,
Every dollar signed is another oath.
I built the mountain, stone by stone,
Now I can't breathe this gold I own.
The producer immediately smiled in the control room. The raw feeling was caught perfectly. It was honest.
Now, the focus shifted to Rhys and Nick for the background singing. This was the moment the personal burden became a shared experience, a sad echo of the public lie. They sang together, their voices tight and slightly strained by the deep sadness of the words.
They see the crown, they never see the strain.
A perfect image drowning in the rain.
The two-part harmony was haunting, giving depth to the picture Jax had just painted. The constant public judgment and the perfect appearance they were forced to keep up for the Aether fan base.
This was the main part, the moment where the song broke free and demanded total effort from all four band members. The instruments exploded. The sound built into a huge, soaring expression of frustration. Jax threw his head back, his voice tearing through the carefully controlled silence of the booth.
I'm tied down by the Iron Anchor of my name.
Trapped inside the echo of the flame.
I want to break the contract, rip the page,
Escape this self-made, gilded stage.
On the last line, Nick drove the drum beat into a wild high point, a burst of energy meant to represent the angry, desperate wish to tear completely free. Jax's voice was strained, capturing the exact pitch of frustration the song required.
The track slowly became quiet, leaving a silence in the room even heavier than the music had been. The band stood frozen, the energy from the performance still vibrating around them.
"Stop the tape! Take one is incredible!" the producer yelled, his voice full of excitement.
Jax pulled off his headphones, breathing heavily. Sweat was on his forehead. Giving that much emotion to the song was physically exhausting. He felt completely empty, as if he had left a large piece of his soul trapped forever inside the music.
They spent the next thirty minutes listening back to the recording, focusing on the technical parts: the precise sound of the guitar and the deep thud of Nick's kick drum. But the main difficulty remained: the second part of the song needed to change the focus, moving to the idea of searching for a hidden truth beneath the surface of fame.
For this section, Kellan's voice was critical. Kellan, often the quiet, steady strength of the group, was best at showing deep, controlled emotion. He had been the one to ask Jax the honest question about Aria, and his voice needed to carry that underlying search for true freedom.
They prepared for the second recording attempt. This time, Kellan took the lead on the first lines. His voice was a rich, low harmony that provided a sad, balancing part to Jax's main vocal.
The only silence I can find is in a screen
Chasing a freedom I've never seen.
Kellan's delivery was quiet and thoughtful, capturing the loneliness of celebrity life. The idea that the only real privacy could be found in the digital world, far away from the adoring fans. The lyrics directly mirrored the secret, coded messages Jax and Aria used.
Then, Jax took over the last two lines, bringing the emotion back to the idea of public resistance:
I want to walk away from the applause,
just to find a flaw in the system's laws.
The section was a perfect mix of Kellan's internal search and Jax's outward drive. The band nailed the final repeat of the main part of the song, creating a loud, soaring wall of sound designed to deeply affect the listener. It was a perfect, finished moment.
By the late afternoon, the rhythmic, emotionally demanding work was finished. They had achieved a final, perfect recording for "Iron Anchor." The emotional and mental drain was huge.
The four young men collapsed onto the worn leather sofa in the lounge area, ordering food from the studio kitchen. Simple, heavy pasta dishes, and cold water. They ate in tired quiet, their shared creative experience creating a different kind of bond than their shared fame.
"My voice is gone," Jax whispered, taking a long drink of water.
"You gave everything to that track," Rhys said, rubbing his own neck. "That song is going to tell people everything they need to know without us saying a single word to the media."
Nick grinned, picking up his phone. "The Aether fan base is already talking about the lyric 'Iron Anchor of my name.' They haven't even heard the song, but they know what it means. Silas is going to use that for the next interview push to get attention."
They talked about music, about the technical difficulties of the session, and about nothing serious for a while. It was a moment of true, simple human connection. Four young men exhausted by their work, fueled by pasta, and focused by the knowledge that they had just created something powerful and explosive.
After they ate, the boys took turns using the studio's small, functional shower rooms to wash away the sweat and the tension from the recording session. They changed into fresh, comfortable clothes, preparing to face the outside world once more. A world that saw them as superstars, not as tired people who had just spent six hours screaming their pain into a microphone. The weight of their celebrity returned the moment they opened the lounge door.
Aria had a habit of staying late, using the complete silence in the Vanguard Designs headquarters to retreat to the Pattern Making Lab. She wasn't just the CEO; she was the artist, the one who held the true vision for every piece.
She stripped off her business jacket and sat down at the large, empty table, picking up her tools. She had already worked on the difficult corset structure earlier, and now she focused on the delicate Nighthawk Gown prototype.
The scent of rich silk organza filled the quiet air. She didn't use a sewing machine for this work; she used her own hands, stitching tiny, perfect seams with a needle and custom thread. This was not about speed; it was about complete control. Only by creating the core of the design herself could she guarantee its absolute perfection and fill it with her own fierce spirit. It was her way of exercising her creative mind and meditating, the rhythmic movement of her hands a deliberate, calming rhythm.