Chapter 190: A Brain-Racking Song Selection

Chapter 190: Chapter 190: A Brain-Racking Song Selection

"Isn’t it?" Nicolas didn’t notice her unease, continuing on his own. "Who could have imagined someone would use airplanes to crash into buildings? Things like this were only seen in movies before. Fortunately, we’re lucky enough to be in this secluded place, far away from all the danger."

He cast his fishing line into the sea, creating a ripple.

Irene smiled in agreement, her gaze fixed on the distant ocean, yet the unease in her heart didn’t fade.

She knew Nicolas was genuinely grateful, but the more he felt that way, the more she worried about her secret being exposed.

She could only pray that the chaos brought by this disaster would mask her "abnormality," leading everyone to believe it was just a lucky coincidence.

The two sat quietly on the rocks at the pier.

Their fishing rods occasionally twitched, but they didn’t catch any fish.

Neither of them cared, though. They were simply enjoying the rare tranquility.

In the distance, a few seabirds skimmed low over the ocean, leaving behind a series of crisp cries.

Irene and Nicolas hadn’t been sitting on the rocks for long when they heard light footsteps behind them.

"You two really know how to find some peace and quiet. I searched the hotel for ages, and only after asking the staff did I find out you’d headed to the pier with fishing rods. And you said you were here to catch big fish? I think you’re just here to slack off and zone out."

Irene turned around to see Britney wearing a bright yellow sundress, carrying a canvas bag, the hem of her dress swaying gently in the sea breeze.

Nicolas smiled and waved his fishing rod.

"How can you call this slacking off? This is called balancing work and rest. Look at how calm the sea is. Even if you don’t catch any fish, it’s still relaxing."

"Being relaxed doesn’t mean we can forget about business."

Britney walked over to Irene and tugged on her arm, her eyes full of anticipation.

"I’ve organized several demo scores over the past two days and I really want to talk to you about them. I have some new ideas regarding the fusion style you mentioned before. If I wait any longer, I’m afraid the inspiration will slip away."

Seeing her eager expression, Irene smiled and patted Nicolas on the shoulder.

"I’ll head back with her, then. You take your time fishing, and if you catch a big one, remember to save me a share."

Nicolas waved his hand.

"Go on, go on. It’s perfect, actually. I was just wanting some peace and quiet on my own. See you tonight."

As they walked back to the hotel with Britney, they could still hear sporadic discussions among the tourists, but it was much calmer than a few days ago.

Britney didn’t mention the terrorist attack. She kept humming the new melodies she’d written.

It was clear that music had helped her clear away the gloom.

The room booked for Britney was the hotel’s largest.

While they called it a presidential suite, the floor space wasn’t exactly vast.

After all, it had been designed and built by locals. It lacked the lavish grandeur of a chain hotel, but it was filled with local charm at every turn.

The walls of the room were painted a warm beige and hung with several hand-painted oil paintings of island scenery, set in frames made of rough, natural timber that still showed the wood grain.

The floor was covered with mats woven from coconut husks that rustled when stepped on.

In the corner sat a bamboo storage basket piled with local handicrafts: hanging ornaments made of strung shells and small, hand-carved wooden sailboats.

The bedroom and living room were connected without any clear partition.

In the center of the living room was an indigo batik tablecloth, covered with various musical scores and draft paper filled with notes. Some had curled edges, others were covered in red annotations.

Two open music theory books were even draped over the arm of the sofa.

On the simple wooden bookshelf in the corner, besides a few records, sat several colorful conch shells that Britney had collected on the beach over the past few days.

An electronic keyboard sat in front of the sofa. It must have been Britney playing it, which explained the music Irene had been hearing from time to time.

"Don’t mind the mess," Britney said, scratching her head sheepishly as she tossed her canvas bag onto the sofa.

"My head’s been full of melodies for the past few days. I write as soon as I wake up, and scores are piled up everywhere. I originally wanted to wait until you were done with your shoot to find you, but then this whole thing happened. Now, we can finally sit down and talk properly."

Irene walked to the table and picked up a score to look through.

The notes were scrawled crookedly, and there were quite a few revisions.

Scribbled in pencil on the side were notes like "Funk rhythm" and "R&B modulation," which gave a glimpse into her thought process.

"It doesn’t look messy at all. It’s all traces of inspiration,"

Irene said with a smile.

"Come on, why don’t you play some of the ideas you’ve had over the past few days? Let’s see if we can find some direction in them."

Britney immediately stood by the electronic keyboard, and pleasant music began to play.

In fact, before this, Irene had seriously considered what kind of songs she should help Britney choose, so that her transformation wouldn’t seem too radical while still maintaining an attitude.

To Irene, no amount of sexy musical styles could compare to Britney’s future hits, "Toxic" and "Gimme More." Those were legendary tracks in her mind.

Furthermore, a first transformation couldn’t be too drastic. The fans needed a process to adapt.

Therefore, after much thought, she decided she needed two songs that were catchy, simple, and easy to remember, yet capable of highlighting female independence and vitality.

These would serve as a bridge between "girl" and "woman," allowing Britney’s fan base to transition from young demographics to successful women with more life experience.

Additionally, because of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the American public’s nerves were currently very fragile.

If Britney could step up at this moment and release a song that conveyed positive energy and resonated with the public, it would surely elevate her status in the hearts of the American people, transforming her from a girl oblivious to the hardships of the world into a national idol who could carry the dreams of the American public.

Finding such a song wouldn’t be easy.

After all, Britney’s future style was largely a diverse mix of electronic, funk, R&B, and exotic Middle Eastern elements. It was a style that was mostly languid and playful, matched with glamorous dance tracks.

Yet, most songs that needed to carry an uplifting, positive sentiment were rock music, because that genre had the power to scream out hope and emotion.

Although pop-rock might be a genre Britney had never touched before, great songs could transcend the limits of time and space.

She believed that Britney could adapt the song into her own style.

Now, however, a problem lay before her: how was she supposed to guide Britney to create these three songs?

After all, Irene herself had no formal training in music theory. For her to conjure up three classic tracks out of thin air would undoubtedly be a fantasy.

Nicolas’s mention of her "foresight" still rang in her ears, and she couldn’t afford to reveal any more unusual behavior.

The melody from the electronic keyboard still flowed from her fingertips.

Irene nodded gently to the rhythm, took a deep breath, and raised her hand to press the keys.

"Actually, I’ve been thinking about your transformation over the past few days. I think we could start by finding two ’transitional’ songs. We don’t need to be too radical all at once. It would allow your fans to adapt while still conveying the sense of maturity you’re looking for."