Page 30 of Knot Their Omega
“Get them to sign the moment you finish talking with me because I ain’t cleaning shit up for you if anything hits the fan, Nate,” I elaborate, as though it’s not the 100th time doing so. “I let you do a lot of bullshit because you’re our pack leader, and I know the pressure of us not having an Omega nag at you all day and night, but I want you to sit down and think for a second. You searching for an Omega who’s slept with easily five Alphas a day minimum is what you’re looking for?”
“N-No!” It’s dawning on him now how it looks. “I’m just playing around.”
“Playing around can only go on for so long, Nate. So long before it becomes a problem that needs to be fixed,” I acknowledge. “Play games now. Have all the sex you fucking want if it keeps your nagging knot in a rut so you can be in the studio and on stage when you have to perform to thousands of fans. However, it can’t become an addiction, Nathaniel. We’re going to find an Omega eventually, and I ain’t hurting her heart by thinking she isn’t the apple of our pack’s eye.”
Yeah, I can be a douche to the female population majority of the time, but no way do I envision myself hurting my Omega by allowing her to think she isn’t the only woman I want in my vicinity. We’re all allowed to play games right now, but a time will come when we meet the one for us, and I won’t dare fuck it up.
“Understood?” I eventually requested.
“Understood,” he repeats in muttered defeat.
“Now, do you need me for anything else aside from complaining, wanting Kenji, or rubbing in your eventful sex life?”
I know he wants to argue, but he holds his tongue because I really will hang up on him if he doesn’t answer my question properly. My tolerance can only go so far.
“I rejected the submitted piece,” he reveals.
Frowning, I try not to spiral into work mode because I ain’t working tonight. I deserve the night off, and I plan to do that the moment Nate is off the line.
“Why?” I finally ask because there’s no point in complaining about how this is the twenty-fifth song he’s rejected.
“Icarus, the lyrics don’t work. Not with the melody and how it’s supposed to be soft and passionate in the beginning and loud and heartbreaking at the end. The first part wasn’t bad. I did a few recordings and shit, but the last part flops. Falls too short on the stick. I think it was fucking eaten by a dog because the impact just ‘poofs’! You can listen to the samples I made yourself, but fuck. It’s a no.”
Nate is talking in “artist” mode. Most people will listen to what he says and not understand shit. However, I’ve worked with Nate long enough to understand his process.
“What’s the song called?”
“A Spark Within a Ruthless Butterfly.”
“Ruthless,” I whisper while trying to hone down on the hidden meaning. “You’re trying to project a woman who looks fearless and rough on the outside, but the world forgets she’s still fragile and beautiful on the inside?”
“Yes!” He exaggerates like I’m the first one to understand him.
“What’s the spark supposed to signify?”
“I don’t know…” he whispers, and his voice gets even softer. “When you’re tough to the world, you end up creating invisiblearmor that shields you from all the pain and hurt that’s thrown your way every day. No one gets to see the real you, but what if someone ignites that tiny spark? That flicker begins to fizzle to life, and it peels away those layers of protection. Just enough that the world has no choice but to see how a simple connection can reveal such pure vulnerability. Beauty and grace that’s only unlocked between them.”
Like an Omega entering the lives of a Pack after thinking she wasn’t worthy of such a life.
The heartfelt message needs to be woven into the lyrics properly or else the meaning is lost in the melody. I can see why Nate’s struggling because unless the lyricist has experienced something of such capacity in their life, they can’t possibly write the raw beauty in the song. The arrangement also has to be just right, and that needs to be envisioned by the one writing it.
If they’re unaware that the beginning needs to be soft and vulnerable, they’ll start it loud and maddening, which only ruins the hyped energy when it lowers to a tender, passionate composition at the end.
Tricky.
“Fine.” I can’t argue with him when I can envision the dilemma at hand. “I’ll figure it out tomorrow afternoon. I don’t work tonight, but it’ll be on the top of my list to find a new set of lyricists and see what we can come up with.”
“Can’t we contact that Vesper dude?”
I roll my eyes before taking an inhale of my cig.
“You already know the answer to that, Nate,” I say after blowing the puff of smoke. My eyes catch onto a group of Alphas at the end of the alleyway, their cornered stance reminding me of a football team trying to figure out their game plan before starting the game.
They must have feigned needing to get some air so they can talk about how they’re going to win an Omega tonight.
Desperation, I tell you. I could never.
Let my Omega fall from the fucking sky before I huddle like a bunch of nervous assholes and try to map out how fate is supposed to work. Those planned relationships never last.