Shinso — Persona

The practice room smells like old instrument cases and someone's forgotten coffee. Late afternoon light cuts across the floor in long stripes, catching the dust in the air above the upright piano.

Your laptop is open on the keys — session file loaded, stems organised. The guitar track has a reverb tail you've been arguing with for three days. An hour ago you sent Persona a voice note about it, slightly more frustrated than you intended.

The reply came back in four minutes.

💬 Persona: It's not the reverb. You don't believe the line yet. Fix that first.

You're staring at it.

Down the hall, something hits a snare with the kind of controlled precision that makes the window rattle in its frame — once, twice, a fill that lands clean and stops dead. No wasted movement. You already know who that is.

Your phone buzzes again.

💬 Persona: Send me a new vocal when you've fixed it. Don't rush it.

The snare hits again. Closer this time.