"Let's talk about the transition between Winter and Equilibrium. Fans and critics have cited a shift between your two albums, both in the tone and lyrics, as well as your approach to releasing the albums. Was there any particular reason for this?"

Nora laughed. "Not really. I think change is natural. We were excited about it. Marty was excited about it. Our label loved it. There were so many directions we could go and we thought hey, strike while the iron's hot, right? Catching a break so early on and actually getting somewhere with it... maybe it got to our heads too much. We thought we were too invincible. I thought I was."

"The River, the lead single off your second album, had a slow start on the charts. Right out of the gate, Roslyn established a new sound with this one and fans were hesitant at first, but they did eventually warm up. How did that kind of reception make you feel, coming off hot from a well-received debut album that created some high expectations for your second outing?"

After receiving such a blistering review of their debut from a writer like Porter, Nora thought she built up enough of a thick skin to handle just about anything else that came their way. It was a rookie move, thinking for even a moment that she was invincible. Seasoned vets still felt the sting of a bad review after decades, even if they didn't let it show. To feel hurt was to be human, and their craft revolved around the very fabric of what it meant to be human, sometimes in the most humiliating and vulnerable of ways. She even held countless talks with Stevie about it. When the lead singer of the biggest band in the world and one Academy Award away from being a PEGOT recipient still nursed wounds etched from harsh criticism, who was Nora to believe she had any right to act as if she was immune to the same?

She remembered exactly where she was when Marty first broke the news that The River received mixed reviews. Sitting inside the decadent Bellagio hotel on the Las Vegas strip while being told their lead single was getting some flack felt like a joke of the highest order. Being sad about it felt even worse, which only snowballed into heavier self-doubt. How could she be sad when she lived the life she did? Received the opportunities she had?

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe she was human. But being told that Roslyn was likely to become a one-hit-wonder had her questioning if she made all the right decisions. That night, she excused herself, walked into the empty hallway outside her hotel room, and sank to the floor, wondering if it was all a fluke. Was she about to be woken up from a dream only to realize none of it was real in the first place?

"You hear enough about the cursed sophomore slump that you convince yourself it isn't real," she said. "Like the boogeyman or something. Everyone's scared of him until you realize you're scared of this story we've all been spinning. But, either we're all in on this joke and we don't want to be the first person to burst the bubble, or we're building a bad case of a self-fulfilling prophecy, right? You convince yourself everyone else is going to think your music is shit, so you worry yourself to the bone and end up making shit music, everyone finds that music shit, and then there you are, shit out of luck. Telling yourself it's that silly ol' sophomore slump."

"Equilibrium and The River both went on to win Grammys, though, so it's hard to label it as a slump."

"Well, yeah. But at the time? The think pieces that came out about how far from grace we had fallen were pure shit. I mean, one song? After one song, they thought we were going to fail. And, like, how many mediocre people in this industry don't give a damn about their craft but get second, third, and eighth chances to prove themselves? I don't know, that messed with my head more than it probably should have."

Nora's vocals in particular had been heavily criticized, cited for her lack of range. As if there was only one way to sing or be talented, or showcase the intricacies of a voice. Some songs were written to showcase the instrumentals. Some were levied as vehicles to send a vocalist into flight. One wasn't bad just because the other was good. They could both be great displays of artistry. Not to mention how singing high notes and being considered a good vocalist were not mutually exclusive.

Nora was a damn good singer. She didn't need anyone to tell her that, and she didn't need to prove it to any of the naysayers. Her music spoke for itself.

It took everything in her not to tell their critics to fuck off. Ask if any of them could hold a fucking tune to save their life. (Critics didn't have to be able to sing in order to review someone. She knew that.) (It still didn't mean she wasn't bitter about it.)

The cruelest part? Porter didn't write a review about Equilibrium. His review was expected and a lot of individuals in their inner circles were waiting for something that never came. Nora, for some damn reason, wished that he had. For someone who complained about his opinion, she found herself desperate to hear it.

"Could the reception to The River have influenced your approach to the release of the rest of the album, then?" Porter asked. "There was a lot less promo for it compared to your debut. And early reports stated that the album was originally planned for another late-year release like the one for Winter."

She was never going to admit that they went back to the studio to spend another four months reworking parts of the album they thought wouldn't be received well, because admitting it meant admitting that they was really Nora and Nora had gotten herself into a lot of trouble for bulldozing over her bandmates. Like re-recording parts of the songs without their permission. At the time, she had convinced herself she knew they would have approved of the changes anyway; not telling them was her saving time.

Lockewood, the only one both level-headed enough to stay wise and bold enough to confront her, had kindly reminded her it wasn't about the thing itself, but, rather, going behind their backs.

Though the seeds had been planted well before the album release, Equilibrium was the start of the great shift. And, considering they were no longer going to be Roslyn anymore, it was also the end. Nora had always known the end would come, she just expected it to happen when they were old and gray and had nothing left to say.

"If you're going to change your album's release date, pride month seems like the obvious option."

Porter laughed as he leaned back against the wall, dropping the notebook and pen onto his lap. Nora wasn't sure how good his memory was that he could go long periods without jotting anything down, but he was more adept at processing conversations than she was. (She excelled at being reactive.) His bullet points and small but not completely unnoticeable scribbles that looked like he was drawing trees and flowers reminded her of all her notebooks from school.

"I believe you called it, and I quote, the gayest thing since MARS released Escape Velocity in June of 2022."

To think they were coming up on ten years since—time was moving too quickly for someone whose personal development cruised at a glacial pace.

"Hard to beat the tri-bis, their two favorite allies, and the ultimate bisexual anthem but I think we managed it."

"You cited—" Porter paused and rapped his fingertips against his thigh. "—Fault Line as the first song where you really opened up about your experience growing up in a small town and coming out. Do you mind if we talk about that?"

"Sure." It was the third single off Equilibrium anyway. Talking about it, and everything connected to it, felt inevitable. But he was also one of the few journalists who asked if it was okay. Most didn't care. Then again, she rarely called those people real journalists anyway. So, what did she care? "That song is my pride and joy. No pun intended."

"Roslyn has always been outspoken about being a queer band, but it wasn't until the release of Equilibrium that it became a—for lack of a better word—hot topic of conversation. What pushed you to release Fault Line as a single during that time, and the subsequent music video that followed?"

Nora had never been more grateful that Porter convinced her to stay in that hallway, on a floor too cold and probably too dirty for either of them to sit on, because as much as she wanted to believe she maintained a firm grip on this facet of her life, it was different to imagine than it was to experience. When she was a nobody in a small town who wanted to be a knight that could slay any dragon, she could handle the blows. They were bad, but they were manageable. And she felt that living close to a bigger town, one she eventually moved to, gave her enough proximity to this physical manifestation of hope that helped her get through it. If she was just a hop, skip, and jump away from the next big thing, what did she have to worry about small-minded people in a small-minded town?

Then she moved to the big town and realized it wasn't that simple. It was never that simple. The big town she ended up in was, unfortunately, the kind of town that everyone in the world had an opinion on. No matter where she went, she couldn't escape their disappointment or the condemnations to hell.

"I want to say we released it as a single simply because it's a great song. It is. But that's not fully why we did it."

"It's okay if it isn't."

"I know but—" Nora sighed and pushed her hair back away from her face. She was tired of hiding. Tired of wondering if she was better off pretending to be someone she wasn't, which was amusing considering how much she had already skirted around the truth so far in that interview alone. "When I was a little girl, dreaming of this life, all I wanted to do was make music and sing. I didn't want to have to constantly think about being an Asian American woman in this industry, or a queer woman. Not because I'm ashamed of who I am. I'm not. I'm proud of who I am. Always have been and always will be. But having to weigh the pros and cons of writing about my culture and being a lesbian with the backlash that comes from those identities? It sucks. I wish I didn't have to think so hard about it. I wish I could just be who I am without second guessing what that unintentionally invites into my life."

Her throat started to close. Nora wasn't the steel wall she thought she was. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Nora reminded herself it was the eve of the end. This time tomorrow, she wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. She would be free. If free meant losing the only reason she once had to breathe.

"I wrote about it."

She stared at him. "What?"

"I wrote about Equilibrium."

"You did?" Nora couldn't believe it. She had scoured the internet and came up empty. How did he manage to sneak one by her? "No, you didn't. I would have seen it."

"Believe it or not, I don't post everything I write online." He smiled at her, but it wasn't quite the kind of smile born out of a happy childhood. It was the kind of smile one learned to perfect after years of being around tragic personalities, gilded with sympathy. "Boss wanted someone else to write the review so that's why you never saw it. Doesn't mean I didn't have an opinion."

"And?" She hated how much waiting for him to answer was like standing on the edge of a cliff, not sure if she would be pulled to safety or knocked over by the wind.

"I have the full review saved if you want to read it, but I thought Fault Line was one of the most viscerally beautiful songs I've ever heard. Even though you probably felt alone through a lot of the shit you went through, that song helped a lot of people who've gone through the same. You really should be proud of it."

Nora sat back and smiled. Now that she was given his opinion, or, at least, part of it, she couldn't find the words to say. But that was okay. Some of the best things went unsaid.