Blake had played her bass for much longer than she had expected. She had started when the sun was still out, but now the only illumination in the small room came from the streetlights below and the tiny bulb on her amplifier. Blake shifted against the wall she had been leaning on to find some comfort against the growing stiffness in her back. She realized how she had not eaten any dinner or gone to the bathroom at all. However, thinking about those often inconvenient bodily functions did not fill her with the desire sate her body's wants. Blake allowed herself a small smile and looked at the bass on her lap.

There was something relaxing about playing the instrument that Blake couldn't quite put into words. Perhaps it was the way that the instrument allowed her to support the rest of the band and make the songs whole. The bass was a strong, quiet force that had an impact that was often overlooked in favor of the guitar or the vocals. Yet it never bothered her that everyone would cheer for Weiss, Ruby, or even Yang, because Blake knew that they all deserved the praise. Besides, she had never been one for the spotlight, and the whole experience of being in a famous band still felt like a dream compared to the rest of her life.

The black-haired girl closed her eyes and ran her hands over the instrument in her lap. It was still warm, and she lingered over every miniscule scratch and dent that had found its way onto the instrument over the years. Only a few had come from her time on tour with her friends, and all of those were almost exclusively from Yang. Each new scratch from the blonde always ended with Yang pleading for forgiveness and a week of sickeningly sweet candies mysteriously left on her bed. The rest had come from the time she spent with Adam.

The thought of her old friend made her pause and rub at her closed eyes. She wondered what had become of him after he stayed with their old band, White Fang. Information about them had been scarce, and every time Blake asked about them after one of her shows, no one was able to say what the White Fang had been up to. Blake rested her fingers on the strings and let them play on their own accord. It started as a slow song, but the longer Blake thought about Adam, the faster her fingers moved. It wasn't long before she realized she was playing one of the old White Fang hits, nicely titled "Gut Punch," that had made them so popular in seedy bars across the country. She thought of stopping and maybe going through a better, lighter song, but she pressed on. Besides, it was still a fun song to play: hard, fast, and without a care for any musical structure. It just had bad memories associated with it.

For a moment, Blake delved into her old world. She could smell the smoke and alcohol that stained the air. The masks that covered half of her face was itching and causing her to sweat. The writhing mass of flesh in front of her generated a nauseating wave of heat. She could see Adam on the other side of the stage, playing his guitar and drawing energy from the same crowd that made Blake want to puke. She forced her fingers to keep moving, but each note she played sounded like the guitar was screaming, like it didn't want her to keep playing those songs and associating with those people who were walking a path that she didn't want to go on. Blake hunched her shoulders and kept playing. She didn't want to help the White Fang, but she needed the money. There was simply no way she could find another band to play with. But she would leave the White Fang soon, she told herself. Until "soon" turned into another show, and another show, and another show, until everything turned into a massive blur. Then, in the middle of a nameless venue, in front of a nameless mass of people, the strings on her guitar broke and served as the wake-up call she didn't know she needed.

When she opened her eyes, Blake felt like she was about to have a heart attack. Ruby leaned in the doorway, wearing a small smile and holding two steaming mugs. As always, the redhead was wearing her red hoodie and jeans, but she had chosen to keep her feet bare. One of the joys of being at home.

"And I thought I was quiet," Blake muttered.

Ruby chuckled before stepping forward. "Sorry. You just looked so peaceful." She handed one of the mugs to Blake, who eagerly accepted it, before sitting against the wall as well. "I didn't recognize that song you were playing. Is it something new?"

Blake thought of lying, but settled on the truth. "No, it was something I used to play for the White Fang."

Ruby frowned. "Oh," she said, silver eyes falling on the bass. "Did you want to be alone?"

Blake sipped her tea. "No, I was planning on taking a break anyway."

"You know, I don't think I've ever asked you about your days in the White Fang. Do you still feel upset about it?" Ruby shifted closer until their shoulders were touching.

"No. If none of that happened, I wouldn't have met you."

Ruby laughed. "What awful books have you been reading?"

"Ninjas of Love."

"I should've known."

"But you asked anyway," Blake said. "And it's still true. If my strings hadn't snapped at that venue, I wouldn't have left, and I wouldn't have found an adorable girl and her blonde sister trying to sneak into the show."

"Oh, so you still remember that part."

"You certainly left an impression, falling on me out of the air like that."

"I wasn't expecting Yang to push me over the fence so quickly!" Ruby shouted. She covered her face by drinking from her mug.

Looking at the redhead caused Blake's heart to stir, just as it always did. However, the memory of being crushed by a girl falling from the sky caused Blake to think of a devious plan. She tenderly laid her guitar and mug on the floor beside her. Now free, she scooped up the redhead and held her on her lap. Ruby yelped, but she put her own mug down, miraculously insuring that not a drop had been wasted. Her face was still flushed from embarrassment.

"I thought you said you were taking a break."

"I did," Blake purred before burying her nose into the crook of Ruby's neck. Her head started to swim from the rose-scented hair, and all of the stiffness in her body evaporated. Blake couldn't stop herself from grinning. "Want me to play you a song?"

Ruby shifted. "Do you want me to get off?"

Blake tightened her grip on the redhead. "You're perfect right where you are."

The imminent question died in Ruby's throat as Blake started to press her fingers into the redhead's back. Each press brought forth a giggle. Blake closed her eyes and lost herself to the music. Hearing Ruby's laugh was much better than any old song she used to play. It was even better than what she played on stage with the rest of the band. It was her masterpiece.