The email from Finneas O'Connell initiated a flurry of careful preparation. Alex discussed it immediately with his father.
"The O'Connells – Billie's parents. They're open to a call," Alex explained, trying to keep the tremor of excitement from his voice. "This is big, Dad. Her talent is… it's generational. Exactly what Echo Chamber should be about."
David, who was now deeply invested, listened intently. "Alright. You'll lead the creative discussion, naturally. I'll be on the line as well, mostly to reassure them on the business and parental oversight front. We need to project professionalism and trustworthiness, especially given your age and theirs."
The [Maestro's Codex] provided subtle social cues and talking points based on Finneas and Billie's known personalities from Timeline A – highlighting Finneas's articulate nature and Billie's initial shyness but fierce artistic conviction. It also reminded Alex to emphasize creative freedom and artist development, core tenets that would appeal to the O'Connells, who were deeply supportive of their children's artistic pursuits.
The call was scheduled for a few days later via Skype – video conferencing in 2015 still felt somewhat novel for non-corporate use. Alex set up in his home studio, his father beside him at a makeshift desk. On the screen, Maggie Baird and Patrick O'Connell appeared, warm and intelligent-looking. Finneas was there too, looking a couple of years older than Billie, thoughtful and composed. Billie herself was a more fleeting presence, occasionally visible in the background, dark hair obscuring her face, a shy wave her only initial contribution.
Alex, despite his internal age of 25, felt a flutter of nerves. This wasn't just a business call; it was a connection to a future he was trying to rebuild.
"Mr. and Mrs. O'Connell, Finneas, Billie – thank you so much for taking the time," Alex began, his voice steady. "I'm Alex Vance, and this is my father, David, who helps run the business side of Echo Chamber Records."
David gave a polite nod. "A pleasure to meet you all."
Alex launched into his carefully prepared spiel. He spoke of his passion for authentic, artist-driven music, how he'd stumbled upon Billie's SoundCloud and been instantly captivated by her unique voice and raw songwriting. He mentioned his own burgeoning career, the success of "Thinking Out Loud" and "Shape of You," emphasizing that Echo Chamber was about fostering talent, not imposing a pre-defined sound.
"We believe Billie has an incredibly unique artistic identity," Alex said, making sure to glance towards where Billie was sometimes visible. "Our philosophy at Echo Chamber is to support that, provide resources, help with production and reaching an audience, but always with her vision leading the way."
Maggie asked astute questions about creative control, marketing, and the realities of the music industry for young artists. Patrick chimed in with concerns about schooling and maintaining a sense of normalcy. David fielded these expertly, explaining their commitment to ethical practices and Alex's own youth as a factor ensuring they understood the pressures.
Finneas spoke more about the music itself. "Billie and I, we mostly just write and record in our bedrooms. 'Ocean Eyes' was something I wrote, and she just… made it her own."
"And it's brilliant," Alex interjected immediately. "That song, even in its rawest form, has immense potential. With the right production, maintaining that intimacy but giving it space to breathe… it could be huge."
He saw Billie look up at that, a flicker of interest in her eyes before she looked away again.
The conversation continued for over an hour. No contracts were signed, no firm commitments made, but a foundation of trust was laid. They agreed to stay in touch, for Alex to perhaps share some production ideas for "Ocean Eyes," and for the O'Connells to think things over. As they signed off, Alex felt a cautious optimism.
"That went well, I think," David said, once the call ended. "They're smart, careful people. Good."
Alex nodded, his mind already racing with production possibilities for "Ocean Eyes." The Codex already had the full stem data and production notes from Finneas's original masterwork, but Alex knew he couldn't just replicate it. He had to guide this timeline's Finneas and Billie to a similar brilliance, organically.
-------
In the midst of this, Alex's next single, "Perfect," was released. A classic, heartfelt ballad, it was the romantic yin to "Shape of You's" playful yang. The music video was simple and elegant – Alex playing piano (another skill from his past life, conveniently useful) in a softly lit room, interspersed with beautifully shot, almost painterly scenes of young couples in moments of tender connection.
One of those views came from an unexpected place—an overnight shift break room at a 24-hour supermarket in Manchester.
Layla Hughes, nineteen, part-time cashier, full-time dreamer, had just clocked out for her fifteen-minute tea break. She scrolled past the usual junk on her feed—clickbait, meme compilations, another video of someone pretending to faint in a Tesco—when she noticed a post from a mutual on Twitter: "i don't even like ballads but this made me cry @ 2am 😭 #Perfect."
She clicked.
"I found a love for me
Oh, darling, just dive right in and follow my lead
Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet
Oh, I never knew you were the someone waitin' for me
'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love, not knowin' what it was
I will not give you up this time
Oh, darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own
And in your eyes, you're holding mine
Baby, I'm dancin' in the dark with you between my arms
Barefoot on the grass while listenin' to our favourite song
When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath
But you heard it, "Darling, you look perfect tonight"
Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know
She shares my dreams, I hope that someday, I'll share her home
I found a love to carry more than just my secrets
To carry love, to carry children of our own
We are still kids, but we're so in love, fightin' against all odds
I know we'll be alright this time
Darling, just hold my hand, be my girl, I'll be your man
I see my future in your eyes
Oh, baby, I'm dancin' in the dark with you between my arms
Barefoot on the grass while listenin' to our favourite song
When I saw you in that dress, lookin' so beautiful
I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight
No, no, no
Mm, oh
Baby, I'm dancin' in the dark with you between my arms
Barefoot on the grass, oh, listenin' to our favourite song
I have faith in what I see, now I know I have met
An angel in person, and she looks perfect
Though I don't deserve this, you look perfect tonight"
The piano chords felt like a slow exhale. The lyrics weren't dressed up in metaphors—they just said what they meant. The kind of love song that didn't try to win you over with cleverness, just honesty. She watched Alex's fingers glide over the keys, his voice steady but aching. The video moved through quiet, tender moments—glimpses of love that looked like memories.
And something cracked open in her.
She hadn't messaged Jamie in almost six months. Not since they'd mutually agreed (through tears and silence) that staying best friends after falling apart as lovers was harder than they thought. They hadn't blocked each other. They'd just... stopped.
But now, with Perfect echoing in her ears, her thumb hovered over the familiar chat window. The screen stared back—empty, untouched since last December.
She didn't overthink it.
Just typed:
"hey"
No punctuation. No over-explanation. Just a door left slightly open.
Then she locked her phone, wiped her eyes, and returned to aisle four, the melody still quietly looping in her head.
"Perfect" struck a deep chord. It soared up the charts, giving Alex three concurrent hits. The "Vance Enigma" articles intensified, but now mingled with genuine critical acclaim. He was compared to a young Elton John, a more accessible Jeff Buckley. The industry was officially bewildered and intrigued. Major labels began making discreet inquiries to David, testing the waters for licensing deals or even outright acquisition of Echo Chamber. David, guided by Alex's quiet insistence on independence for now, politely rebuffed them.
"We build our foundation first," Alex had told him. "Our terms. Our artists."
The pressure, however, was subtly mounting. At school, a few classmates were starting to connect the "Alex Vance" on the radio with the quiet kid in their class. Whispers followed him down the hallways. He even got his first slightly awestruck "Are you… the Alex Vance?" from a freshman girl in the library, which he deflected with an awkward smile and a hasty retreat.
He knew his relative anonymity was fading. The rising tide of his success was lifting him into a much more public sphere. And with Billie and potentially others on the horizon, Echo Chamber Records was about to become much more than just Alex Vance's solo project. It was becoming a beacon for a new sound, a new wave. And Alex knew, with a certainty that both thrilled and terrified him, that the waters ahead were going to get a lot choppier.