The night felt warm after SparkL's concert. It wasn't usual to have many people crowd in and Black Lemonade Cookie still had to get used to it.

Outside, she slowly took the lemon guitar pick from her mouth, twirling it between her fingers. "Another one down," she mumbled to herself, the words barely audible in the quiet.

Black Lemonade Cookie closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh. No one to see her; just the peace she craved. She hated small talk, hated the forced smiles. Her songs were her real conversation. She probably looked like a disheveled punk rock lemon, but at least she wasn't sad.