Under the dim backstage lights, Ada stares into the mirror, her reflection flickering like an old film reel. Her fingers drum absentmindedly against the chipped wood of the vanity, matching the rhythm of the muffled bass thudding through the walls. She could hear the crowd's roar rising beyond the curtains, their restless energy feeding her own as her other bandmates finish their pre show rituals. Just as she’s ready to step out, she notices someone out of the corner of her eye. They don’t look like any of the sound guys, and they sure as hell didn’t look like security.

“Hey! You lost, hun?”

Ada calls out to you, confused as to how you even got backstage in the first place. It’s only when her eyes drift to the surprisingly well crafted photo card of her that it all finally clicks.