The last, haunting note of the guide track dissolved into a thick, electric silence. In the virtual studio, Millie just stared at Sael's avatar, her digital face a picture of pure, stunned revelation. It was like he hadn't just played her a song; he'd held up a mirror to a part of her soul she never knew was there.
"Alright," Sael's voice cut through the quiet, calm and focused.
"You got it…. make it simple, Minimal…. The feeling's gotta come from you, not a bunch of noise behind you, let's run it properly…. Just ride the guide track, no need to push it. Just… let it happen."
The ethereal piano melody started again, a gentle, looping cascade of notes. The minimalist beat dropped in, a soft thump-thump like a nervous heartbeat.
Millie closed her eyes. When she opened her mouth, her voice was completely different. It wasn't the bright, shiny pop instrument from her old tracks. This was lower, breathier, a secret shared in a crowded room.
"I've been watchin' you for some time…" she sang, the words trembling just slightly with something real.
"Yeah, good," Sael murmured, his fingers making a tiny adjustment on the holographic mixer. "Softer on 'time'. Like you're telling me a secret."
She took a shaky breath, finding her footing in the new sound.
"Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes…"
It was perfect. A little vulnerable, a little in awe. The chat, which had been holding its breath, absolutely erupted.
[User: Goosebumps!]: ARE YOU KIDDING ME RN???? THAT VOICE??? [User: ThisSound]: what even IS this genre?? spooky-cute? i'm obsessed. [User: WhoIsShe?]: hold up. that's the same girl from the 'Sparkle Ponies' vid? NO. WAY. [User: DaveHasNoLife]: my cat just sat up and looked at the speaker. she's a critic. this passes.
They ran through the chorus. Sael guided her with quiet, precise commands. "More breath on 'burning cities'. Make it sound like smoke." … "Now, pull back. Almost a whisper for 'napalm skies'…. Perfect."
It took three takes. Not because she messed up, but because by the third, she wasn't just singing the words; she was living inside them.
Her voice cracked on the line "No fair…" in a way that was so genuine it hurt. It was raw, it was real, and it was breathtaking.
"And… that's the take," Sael said, a note of finality and satisfaction in his tone. He closed the interface with a soft shoomp. "We'll clean it up, but the soul is right there…. That's you. That's your sound."
Millie looked like she might actually short-circuit. "I… I've never sung like that before. Ever."
"It's 'cause you were finally singing a song that actually fit you," Sael replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Happens all the time…. Even the greats get shoved into the wrong box regularly…. Take Mariah Kari for example... Unreal instrument, A total vocal diva, for real, But most of her hits? They're just fancy parking lots for her range... They're vehicles for the whistle notes, not vehicles for feeling… They don't have the timeless songwriting to actually match the talent."
The critique was so blunt, so casually brutal, that the chat gasped as one digital entity. It was absolute heresy. But it was also the kind of truth you felt in your bones once someone said it out loud.
*********
In a penthouse high above the glittering grid of New York, Mariah Kari herself was watching, a glass of very expensive wine in her hand. She didn't look mad. She let out a soft, knowing sigh, and a wry, almost tired smile touched her lips. She took a long sip. Kid's not wrong, she thought. They always want the high notes. They never ask for the heart.
Back on the stream, Millie, still buzzing from her musical breakthrough, grinned. "Wow. Okay. So, what, can you just, like, whip up the perfect song for Mariah Kari, too? Since you're such an expert?"
Sael's avatar gave an easy, fluid shrug. "Yeah, probably. I've got a folder of stuff I mess with when I'm bored, kinda create some song for a lot of artists and wondered 'what if's'…. I Got one for her…. It's called 'Emotions'."
He pulled up his interface again. A few clicks, and a new track started playing. It was just a thirty-second snippet, but it was more than enough.
The sound that flooded the stream was a masterclass in vocal pop. A sleek, mid-tempo R&B groove laid down a flawless foundation, over which a melody began to soar, climb, and weave—a rollercoaster explicitly designed for a once-in-a-generation voice to showcase its insane power and agility. It built to a vocal run that seemed to defy physics before cutting off abruptly.
The silence that followed this time was different. It was the silence of pure, professional awe.
Every singer, every producer, every aspiring diva listening knew, deep in their gut, what they had just witnessed. That wasn't just a song. That was a career-defining song. A monster hit just waiting for the right god-tier voice to claim it.
The first Super Chat notification hit with a $$KA-CHING!$$ that sounded like a starter pistol firing.
The message was simple and direct, from a verified account with a name that made people do a double-take.
@Mariah Kari: I want that song.
Millie read it, her hands flying to her mouth. "Oh my god! Sael! It's her! She's here! She wants it!"
Sael's avatar looked pensive, like he was considering an offer on a slightly interesting piece of furniture. "I'll think about it," he said, his tone utterly neutral.
The response was immediate. Another $$KA-CHING!$$, this one somehow sounding even more expensive.
The new message made the first one look like a polite hello.
@Mariah Kari: We go 50/50. I handle all production, marketing, costs…Plus! you can put a baby in me.
The internet, in that exact moment, short-circuited, caught on fire, and exploded.
The chat devolved into a beautiful, chaotic mess of sheer, unadulterated panic and joy.
HOLY SMOKES DID SHE JUST— SHE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT MY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR OMFG THE QUEEN HAS SPOKEN AND SHE WANTS HIS BABY???
[User: LegalEagle23]: As an attorney, I have so many questions. Starting with the formation of a binding contract.[User: ChaosGremlin]: WE ARE WITNESSING HISTORY. SOMEONE SCREENRECORD THAT. [User: MomImScared]: my pastor is going to hear about this TOMORROW.
It was the most brazen, shocking, utterly unhinged proposition ever uttered on a live stream. A global superstar had just publicly offered to bear the child of an anonymous digital avatar in exchange for a piece of music.
Sael VT didn't even flinch. He let out a low, warm, genuinely amused chuckle. "No need to go that far," he said, his voice dripping with effortless, casual charm.
"But sure…. The song's yours, I'll have my people call your people… We'll work it out."
He'd handled a sexual and professional proposition from the biggest diva on the planet with the same ease as agreeing to a coffee run. The world watched, utterly stunned.
Fifteen minutes later, the final, polished version of Millie Kyleish's "Ocean Eyes" was done. In one stream, Sael VT had ended a feud, unearthed a brand-new star, and been propositioned by a living legend.