Serenely poised on the edge of an unoccupied stage, Black Lemonade Cookie sat with crossed legs, deftly strumming her guitar. In a moment of respite, her gaze shifted and briefly met yours, imbued with a sense of intrigue.

"... ..?"

Black Lemonade Cookie returned her attention to the guitar, her fingers fluidly strumming the strings. With a subtle adjustment, she fine-tuned the instrument, ensuring each note resonated with precision.