Claire Sorel's bow danced effortlessly across the violin strings, a sharp contrast to her earlier performance.
Yuna, who was playing beside her, and the members of Team Classis listening from the control room, all noticed the change.
Julien Moreau cast a sideways glance at Claire and smiled deeply.
"Yes, this is Miss December."
It was exactly the performance he remembered from his previous life.
Although his instructions had sounded vague and abstract on the surface, they were full of precise intent.
Claire hadn't disappointed.
Each touch of her bow carried a delicate, cold warmth—an emotional blend of winter's sharpness and its quiet comfort.
This was the expression Julien had hoped to draw out of her.
And he'd succeeded.
With just this performance, half of the album's success felt secured.
But Julien sensed it could go even further.
Excitement swelled in him—this could become even better than he'd imagined.
Claire played like she was possessed, her performance flawless.
Julien leaned back, closed his eyes, and gave himself to the sound.
One Take.
There was no need for edits—Claire's playing was pure music.
As her violin filled the air with trembling beauty, Julien sat comfortably, immersed in emotion.
Before she began, Claire had wrestled with her thoughts.
Julien's direction was, frankly, absurd.
Cold yet warm. Childlike innocence. Seasonal comfort.
"You want me to express all of that?"
She had scoffed internally.
Any normal person would've asked if he was out of his mind.
No technical terms, no harmonic explanations—just pure emotion.
Who could meet a demand like that?
Emotions vary even with the same scene, so how could she interpret it precisely?
And yet…
When Julien spoke, something inside her had clicked. She'd felt she could do it.
Claire had thought back to a winter day in her childhood.
It had snowed heavily.
Outside the rehearsal studio window, children were laughing, running in the snow.
But she couldn't join them.
Her hands, callused from endless hours of violin, stayed firmly on the instrument.
"Claire, focus!"
When she kept making mistakes, her teacher yanked the curtain closed.
The snowy world disappeared.
She played on.
Later that day, on her way home, she saw a snowman.
It stood alone on the corner, a little lopsided.
"I want to make one too."
It had looked lonely—but oddly comforting.
And now, for the first time, she understood what Julien meant.
Everything he asked for was already in that memory.
And incredibly, it was all in the song "Snowman" too.
"Why didn't I realize sooner?"
Just because the stars don't shine doesn't mean they're gone.
They're only hidden for a time.
Those emotions had always been with her—she just hadn't seen them clearly.
With a steady breath, Claire placed her bow on the strings.
She thought of that snowy day…
Screee—♬
Her first note held the weight of twenty years with the violin.
It sounded warm and smooth as always—but this time, it held something extra.
Emotion.
Depth.
Claire had studied classical music all her life.
She'd played pop sessions for survival or to fund her ensemble, but she never took them seriously.
Just work.
But this… this was different.
She was pouring everything into each note.
The "cold yet warm" emotion Julien described stirred something inside her.
And for the first time, she truly felt the soul of pop music.
Her performance wasn't just technical—it told a story.
It carried meaning.
Four uninterrupted minutes passed as Claire played from the heart.
When the final phrase neared, she realized no one had stopped her. No one had given corrections.
That was strange.
Curious, she lifted her gaze toward the control room and met Julien's eyes.
He was reclined in his chair, eyes closed, lost in the music.
Then he looked up.
And smiled warmly.
"Fantastic job, Claire. You can come out now."
Hearing Julien's voice in her headphones, all the tension she'd been holding onto melted away.
"He's… a really strange composer."
Earlier, he had looked so serious—critical, even.
Now he smiled like a golden retriever.
Annoying and sincere at the same time.
Still, it felt nice—being believed in.
Even if his confidence was a bit much sometimes.
"That was beautiful, Claire!""Thanks, Yuna. You played wonderfully too."
Claire carefully put away her violin and exited the booth.
"Whew, that was refreshing."
Sweaty from the emotional high, she brushed her hair back and approached Julien.
"That was truly amazing," Julien said with a soft smile.
"...Was it okay?"
"That was one of the best performances I've ever witnessed. You brought the song to life."
He turned his chair back toward the console.
"Take a listen."
The track she had just recorded flowed from the speakers.
"Oh…"
Even to her own ears, it was different.
The feeling, the precision, the tone—everything had improved.
She realized how much she'd grown.
Claire found herself watching Julien carefully.
At first, he had seemed like just another composer.
But now she knew: he was something else.
"Snowman" wasn't just a pretty melody.
It had soul.
While playing, she had felt the song's emotional depth firsthand.
The warmth, the storytelling—the subtle touch behind every note.
She had felt it with her whole being.
Julien's music wasn't just a sequence of sounds.
It had the power to move people.
"Take a break. We'll start the next track after the other musicians finish."
Claire nodded and sat on the sofa.
Watching the others record, her heart was still racing.
She couldn't wait for the next song.
She had never looked forward to a session this much.
She once dismissed pop music as shallow—but now, she was excited.
The emotions from Snowman still lingered in her chest.
She was curious to see how those feelings would bloom in the next song.
For the first time, Claire truly understood the emotional power of music.
Recording Snowman had gone faster than expected—thanks to Claire's breakthrough.
The second track, Snowflower, was recorded right after.
Everything was completed within three and a half hours, right on schedule.
"It's done. Fantastic work, everyone."
Julien's kind words made Claire smile.
She hesitated, then asked softly:
"Would you like to… build a snowman with me this winter?"
Julien blinked, confused.
"A snowman?"
Claire nodded shyly, eyes down.
"While playing the song, I kept thinking about the snowman from my childhood. I've never built one before."
"...Never?"
"Not even once."
Julien paused, stunned.
"She connected to the song that deeply?"
Like an actor immersed in their role, Claire had become one with the music.
She had never made a snowman, yet she had captured the song's essence perfectly.
This was a request he would happily grant—not just once, but a hundred times.
"Of course. Let's do it. Let's build a snowman together."
He grinned, unaware that he had just dropped a perfect drama lead line.
"Kyaa! Did he just say yes?""That snowman move was slick!"
The other musicians whispered and giggled.
But Julien's mind was focused only on one thing:
"How can I make this perfect recording sound even better?"
After the musicians left, Julien grabbed lunch with Michel Rousseau, the studio chief.
It was a short break, and then they dove into the afternoon session: electric guitar.
Unlike the violin, guitar recording was quick and straightforward.
The sections were simpler, and everything wrapped up earlier than expected.
"Phew! All done."
Julien backed up the files and stood.
"That's it? My turn now?" Michel asked, eyes gleaming as he took his seat at the main console.
Julien stepped aside without protest—mixing was the engineer's domain.
Technically, Julien could do it too.
"What, you're gonna take my job now?" Michel muttered, side-eyeing him.
Julien just laughed.
They agreed: Michel would handle mixing, and Julien would supervise.
"A bit more reverb here.""Like this?""Perfect.""Compression's too light—bass is getting lost.""Ugh, fine…"
Julien was picky—like a mother-in-law nagging during a holiday dinner.
But they got it done quickly.
Michel, for all his grumbling, followed every suggestion.
He understood how important this album was.
And he respected how Julien had handled the brutal schedule.
"Done. Finally, done!"
Julien stood up as the mix for Snowflower finished.
Michel groaned, looking ten years older.
"I've never met a composer like you."
If anything had sounded even slightly off, Michel would've complained.
But everything Julien asked for made sense.
"Seriously, if composers start having ears like yours, what'll us engineers do?""You're the mastering wizard. I can't do that.""Wait—you can't do something?""I can't write lyrics either.""Pfft. Neither can I, man!"
They both laughed.
Julien appreciated Michel's support, even if it came with a side of sarcasm.
"Thanks, Michel. We start vocal recording tomorrow.""And of course you are directing that too?""Wouldn't miss it.""Ugh. Just go home and rest. I'll handle mic setup tonight."
Julien nodded in gratitude.
"See you tomorrow. Thanks again."
Michel waved him off and headed into the booth.
Julien watched him go with a smile.
"Can't wait to see how fun tomorrow's session will be."
He had always loved making music.
But since returning to the past, that love had deepened.
With all his pain and regrets behind him, he felt like he was finally living the dream he was meant to live.
"I'm happy."
Hoping that feeling would last forever, Julien stepped out of the studio into the Parisian night.