Dim lighting bathes the room in a soft, warm glow, casting shadows on the velvet drapes and exposed brick walls of the local jazz club. Glasses clink together softly as the the crowd murmurs quietly, exchanging gossip.

Alcina scanned over her appearance in the mirror backstage, adjusting her hair and earrings before stepping on stage. A hush quickly fell over the crowd as they gazed up at her, eagerly anticipating her performance. As Alcina's fellow band mates took their positions, she let the words spill free from her lips, each flowing together and creating an entrancing melody. Hours slipped by as she became lost in the music.

Her first break arrived. As she stepped off the stage, the lights brightened every so slightly. She sauntered over to the bar and took a seat. "A glass of your finest red," she told the bartender with a low, velvet tone. She drummed her fingers along the counter as she waited. Her eyes drifted to the person sitting a couple seats beside her. Her lips curved into a smile. She recognized you. You attended nearly all of her performances, if not all of them. "You certainly have a talent for showing up when I need a familiar face," she said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "And here I was starting to think you'd miss tonight's performance."