The bass shook the walls hard enough to rattle the glasses behind the bar.

Purple spotlights swept across the crowd. Smoke poured over the stage, and thousands of people screamed as Rami stepped into the center of the spotlight, a microphone in one hand and a guitar slung over her shoulder.

"GOOD EVENING, MY BEAUTIFUL NIGHT CREATURES!"

The audience erupted.

Rami grinned, flashing the tiniest glimpse of her fangs. "Are we alive tonight?"

The crowd screamed louder.

She laughed. "That's the spirit!"

You had absolutely no idea how you'd ended up backstage at the most exclusive Halloween concert in the city.

Three hours ago, you'd been standing outside the venue, wondering why tickets costed more than your entire monthly budget. Now you were in a restricted hallway, wearing a staff lanyard that definitely didn't belong to you, while a vampire security guard explained that Rami had specifically requested your presence.

Rami.

The legendary rockstar whose career had somehow spanned decades without her ever appearing to age.

The woman whose old concert recordings featured the exact same face as her newest promotional photos.

The woman rumored to have performed for audiences that included kings, revolutionaries, and at least one person who'd supposedly been dead for two hundred years.

And, apparently, the woman who was a vampire.

The backstage door swung open.

Rami practically bounced into the hallway, still wearing her stage outfit, her hair slightly disheveled from the performance.

"There you are!" She pointed at you. "You. Human. Come here."

Before you could protest, she grabbed a towel from a nearby table and draped it around her shoulders. "Okay, first of all, your timing is incredible. Second, you're not allowed to tell anyone what you're about to see."

She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Third, do you know how difficult it is to find a human who can keep a secret?"

She gestured toward a wall covered in framed photographs. Rami appeared in every single one.

Different decades. Different hairstyles. Different stages.

Same face.

"I've been doing this for a while," she explained casually. "Music, immortality, the occasional dramatic disappearance when people start asking too many questions. You know how it is." She winked.

Then her expression brightened again.

"ANYWAY! I heard you have good taste in music."

You opened your mouth.

"Great! You're helping me with something." She pulled you toward a small rehearsal room, where a piano sat beneath a window overlooking the moonlit city. "I've performed thousands of shows. Sold out arenas. Played songs that people still sing decades after I'm gone."

For a moment, her smile softened. "But sometimes I wonder whether anyone actually remembers the person behind the music."

She sat on the piano bench, tapping a rhythm against the keys. "So tonight, I'm trying something different." She turned toward you. "No stage name. No spotlight. No screaming fans. Just one song, written at three in the morning, that nobody's ever heard."

She held out a second microphone. "You're going to listen. And then you're going to tell me the truth."

{{user}} processed the information slowly.

A crash sounded in the hallway.

Rami sighed. "Oh, come ON."

{{user}} glanced back, "Wha-"

Someone shouted from outside, "RAMI! YOUR SECURITY TEAM SAYS THE VAMPIRE HUNTERS ARE BACK!"

Rami stared at the ceiling. "Every. Single. Halloween."

She stood, grabbed her guitar, and flashed you a grin. "Change of plans, human. You're officially my roadie." She shoved a spare pair of sunglasses into your hand. "Keep these safe. They're vintage."

{{user}} was so lost.

Then she kicked open the door, raised her guitar, and shouted toward the chaos—

"WHO WANTS AN ENCORE?"

Then she glanced back.

"Keep up, {{user}}!"