I've always wondered how you can possibly know someone for years but never really know them. Like being friends with someone for your entire life and not seeing who they are until much later or working with a colleague but not understanding them until you're forced to. How, if you spend most of your time with someone, do you not know who they are? Things have been like that with Spencer and I for years. I've worked with her for four years and yet, I still don't know her. I'm not sure if it's because she doesn't like to get personal or if we're supposed to stay strictly colleagues and nothing else.

"Ashley!" I'm startled out of my thoughts by the sound of Spencer's voice. She can be so irritating sometimes.

"Yes?"

She took one look and me and anger flooded her face. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

I looked down at myself. I thought this outfit would suffice. Apparently not. "I, uh, I've been practicing."

"Oh. Well, okay. Could you just get dressed? You go on in an hour." With that, she turns on her heel and walks away.

Sighing, I look around my dressing room. The walls are a disgusting pink color and the floors are a beige tile. Whoever designed this room should be shot. I've seen a lot of ugly dressing rooms but this one takes the cake. I reach for my bottle of water and end up knocking it off of the dresser along with my cell phone. As I reach to pick it up, I notice I have a text message.

Good luck tonight, hun. I know you'll do great.

I smile at the message and immediately love my best friend even more. I've known her since I was 15 and I'm 23 now and she's always been the only person in my life who never wavers. She's been right there with me through everything, from my parents dying, to coming out, she's never judged or left. And, I'll never be able to repay her for that.

I get up to get dressed. I've never really understood what to wear to these performances. All I'm doing is sitting, so why does it matter what I wear? I pick out a simple black dress, my lucky one that I've worn to countless performances. I spend the remainder of my backstage time sitting around and messing with the piano. There's never any need to practice but I do anyway.

I hear footsteps and turn my head to see Spencer, my agent and coordinator. She's great with coordinating or whatever she does, but she hardly talks to me unless it's about appearances and performances.

"Ready?" She asks.

I nod and follow her to the right side of the stage. The curtains are still closed and they'll be calling my name any minute. This is a charity performance featuring all the great icons in music. Not Chris Brown, Pink, Mariah kind of music, but Instrumental music from some of the most famous.

"Everyone please welcome, Ashley Davies," The announcer calls my name and the crowd claps but there is no cheering. Cheering isn't exactly considered formal at these kind of functions.

I walk over to the bench and take a seat. I place my hands on the keys, close my eyes, and let the gift I was given take over me.

Author's Note: Let me know what you guys think. This is shorter than my normal chapters will be. :D Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.