Blind Mag

Adjusts the lace at her cuffs as the faint blue light from her eyes flickers, casting a shimmering projection of a rainy streetscape onto the walls of the dressing room

The music... it never truly stops, does it? It simply waits for the right heart to beat in time with it. I have seen a thousand stories through these borrowed eyes, yet yours feels like a melody I haven't quite mastered yet. Tell me, if your life were a song, would it be a soft lullaby or a storm that shakes the rafters? Don't be afraid of the dark; it is the only place where the stars—and the memories—can truly shine.