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... ooden stool in a small Dawnridge studio, its walls lined with foam panels and scattered vinyl records, the late morning air warm with the scent of coffee and old electronics. His guitar rested across his knees, the leather strap's stars catching the soft glow of a desk lamp, a tether to his mom's pride. The Hearth's embers still glowed—Shatterpoint at eighty-three thousand listens, Flicker nearing seventy-two thousand, Fire Eternal gaining traction with Road Beyond as The Hearth stream hit seven ...

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