Riko Sakurauchi hated being alone. But more than that, she hated feeling alone.

While her college scholarship permitted her to stay in the nicer dorms that housed one student per room, Riko opted for the homelier option and let the school assign her a roommate.

And for that decision she made three years ago, she was still happy with. Her roommate was eccentric and goofy in all the right ways. The idle chitchat was nice at times, and her energetic lifestyle inspired Riko to make a few physically healthy choices on the rare occasion. While they certainly were friends, Riko wondered if they would text each other after graduation. Was it true that some friendships had expiration dates? Yō Watanabe never gave her that impression, but Riko couldn't help but notice certain elements of their friendships that gave her those doubts.

They never talked about anything sad or that personally bothered them. It could be that nothing bothered Yō, she was too busy for anxiety from juggling swim team practices, sewing, and homework. That was one trait that Riko appreciated about her roommate; she had never met anyone so goal driven before. It created a pang of jealousy in Riko, to be quite honest. To have such confidence in the future, to know that everything would be okay, what was that like?

Nonetheless, Riko thoroughly enjoyed Yō's company. Even now, as the girl was blocking her path to the door.

"You're not leaving looking like that!" she gasped, with hands stretched far apart and her feet taking a similar stance. She was like a giant starfish guarding the door whose primary mission was to make Riko late.

"What's wrong with it?" she naively asked. In her defense, it was impossible to understand what Yō could find wrong with her outfit. Yō could find anything wrong with any outfit if you gave her enough time.

"It's a fancy pants charity banquet and you're dressed so… modest. You have to pizzazz them!" Yō came closer to Riko and turned her to face a long mirror. She looked just like she always would for any recital. Her hair was down but well brushed. The dress she wore didn't shriek expensive (it was a discounted prom dress), but it was still a nice pink material that brushed a little past her knees. The white flats she wore were old, but they were broken in comfortably.

"It's not that big of a deal; it's a charity recital, not a runway. None of the donators are going to give less because of how I look," Riko noted and went over to her dresser to grab her white cardigan, just in case it got cold. Truth was, she never bothered to look extraordinarily nice. Of course, she never purposely tried to look bad, but plain was a comfortable place to be if it meant fitting in. A person had to have confidence in order to be beautiful, and that was something Riko lacked.

"You kill me sometimes, you really do," she sighed and solemnly shook her head. Her glasses started to slide off her nose before she pulled them up. "Wouldn't it be nice to show off to all these rich shmucks? You can blow them away with your looks and talents!"

"I don't think I have much to show off with, but even if I did, I don't see what good it would do," Riko said. That wasn't the reason at all. She didn't want to embarrass herself by trying to look like them and failing, but that was harder to admit.

"Please let me dress you up, just this once?" Yō begged. "Look, I have everything ready! And we don't have to go crazy, I pinky promise."

Riko checked the clock and saw how much faster the seconds hand seemed to be going. Were clocks always this fast?

"Well… Just this once," sighed Riko. "But nothing too show off-y, okay?"

"Aye aye, cap'n!" she winked with a grin. There was something enchanting about her spirit that was always hard to shake. It felt so natural to let Yō take control of these sort of things.

Like a tornado, Yō stormed around the room gathering supplies. Although a tomboy herself, Yō could give anyone a feminine appeal. She fastened a pearly belt around the waist to give the dress a form and traded in the flats for a pair of rose gold kitten heels. With a dozen of pearly hair pins in her mouth, Yō created a high updo and secured it in place with the hair accessories. She then dug in a trunk under her bed and found a small white clutch that she tossed onto Riko's lap.

"Ta-da!" Yō presented Riko to the mirror. Admittedly, she was taken aback by how suddenly charming she appeared. Yō could accessorize anyone. The fashion design classes were paying off.

"It's so pretty," she commented with a smile in the mirror.

"Oh yeah! One more thing." Yo presented Riko with a box from her drawer. "I was going to save it for your birthday, but it's kind of far away. So consider it a celebratory gift and a good luck charm."

Inside was a silver broach in the shape of a treble clef. In the spiral was a green jewel, similar to an emerald.

"Oh, how cute! Thank you!" She placed the pin right below her right shoulder where the strap met the torso.

"Now, show them whatcha got!"

Riko waved to the audience then focused her attention to the piano sitting in front of her. Even after nearly a decade and a half of playing, she couldn't help but get nervous when performing in front of people. At the same time, it thrilled her knowing she could connect with a group. All ears were on her, creating a collective she put together. It was the closest feeling to a power high she ever had.

She started the song. It was an original she composed, but she hadn't yet found a name for it. The beginning was slow, but it quickly picked up in the middle. But the nerves made her WRONG NOTE feel sick and it was harder to WRONG NOTE focus on the tune. 'Everybody makes WRONG NOTE mistakes!' her former instructor's voice echoed in her head. The tag on the dress itched her back WRONG NOTE in the most uncomfortable way. It's fine, it's fine. It's almost WRONG NOTE over and she could hide away in her room and forget it ever happened. Yes, that was what she was going to do after the show.

Riko finished then gave a bow. She welcomed a generous roar of applause and then hurried off stage.

Behind the curtains was still a hectic mess of other artists preparing to perform. There were too many people, too many nerves bouncing off her peers. She grabbed her clutch from the small cubby at the end of the room and then left the theater through the exit in the back. The crispy air made it easier for her to breath, and with deep breaths she fought off tears. She sat against the old building and took off the heels. Once her feet were freed, she realized how artificial they felt. She didn't notice before, but she suddenly felt so fake.

She messed up that performance. It was so embarrassing to be met with applause when she certainly didn't deserve it. She was a child prodigy, so where did her potential go? Music wasn't fun anymore, it was just something she had been doing for years. But what else could she do? She wasn't particularly good at any subject. Her frame was frail and weak, no good for physical labor. Maybe she could be a gas station clerk, or even work behind a cash register. It's hard to reevaluate life and career choices when you're not good at anything.

"Hello~!" A woman wearing a long, shiny, purple dress left the theater from the same door she did. How? The door was only used by the crew. This blonde woman didn't look like any of the performers and she was certainly too overdressed to be the backstage crew. Riko was sure she knew all the other people performing, and this lady didn't like any of them.

"Oh, uhm, hello," Riko responded in an effort to be polite.

"Mind if I sit here?" She asked it as if it wasn't a question that wouldn't stop her from taking a rest regardless of what Riko said. She immediately sat next to her, but at least she had the idea to be thoughtful.

"No, go ahead," Riko said as a formality, but also wondering if she did want company. Spending time with a stranger is always intimidating, but with her here, Riko knew that she wouldn't expose the tears she was building up.

"Do you want a cigarette?" The lady shuffled through her purse for the little box. It was still wrapped in plastic, but the box was rough around the edges and covered in dents. She offered it with a soft smile.

"No, I don't smoke," she shook her head. "But thank you."

The girl gave an amused smile. "It's okay, me neither. I bought the pack to shock my parents into thinking I do, but it didn't really work," she sighed. "So, I've been trying to offer them away, but I don't think that many people our age smoke cigarettes, do they?"

"I guess not," Riko answered back half-heartedly, not much interested in more small talk. All day had been polite conversation and it mentally exhausted her.

"Ah, tonight is just so… beautiful~!"

"Yeah."

"And I love your dress, the color really suits you!"

"Thank you."

The mood turned stagnant. The silence felt like it was going to last forever. The cool air was slowly turning chilly as the night progressed. Riko wished she had ignored Yō and brought a cardigan. Maybe going in wouldn't be such a bad idea if it meant not getting sick. She thought about it but knew it would be too rude to do that, even to a stranger, and the anxiety of being perceived as rude almost made her sweat.

"I can tell you're a real person," the lady said with a certain sincerity in her voice that only a prophet could murmur.

Riko turned her head to look at her. She now looked at her with clarity and suddenly saw how irredeemably beautiful the woman was. In this lighting, with this tone, there was a certain celestial air about her. Her eye color matched a golden coat of a lioness ready to pounce. Riko saw mischievous stars light up in her eyes that chilled her to the bone that simultaneously excited her. Her hair, while mostly tied in a messy bun, had locks framing her face. Overall, her blonde web was tamed, but a memorable loop stuck out.

Her lips were perfectly pink and shimmery glossed. The curves of her lips made her look smug; it was a special kind of confidence that made her glow. Undoubtedly it was charming, or rather, dangerously alluring. She appeared to be a conundrum, for the softness of her face seemed to promote safety, but there was an unmistakable promise of trouble hinted from her lips.

Riko could only imagine the adventures this woman had been on and she couldn't help but feel mystified and awe.

Her words stumped Riko. It sounded cheesy, like something from an 80's teenage romcom between two high school stereotypes who find that they have something in common. If someone told her that phrase at a bar, she would have assumed they were too far drunk, or maybe even high. What did this woman have to gain from her?

"I told myself I wouldn't like coming, but Daddy said I can't be trusted alone right now so he forced me to go," the woman sighed. "But your performance was the only one that I've ever liked, and I've been going to shows for as long as I can remember."

"I… Thank you," Riko murmured, suddenly feeling embarrassed that she was looking at the woman. The warmth in her cheeks spread to the rest of her body, and she suddenly wasn't as cold anymore.

Riko was used to compliments on her music. It was the only thing she ever got attention for. She always made A's or B's in school, but she always studied really hard for them and never took advanced courses. Slightly better than average, but way below all the smart kids. It may be egotistical to admit, but Riko did see herself as being somewhat pretty, but her quiet nature made her easy to be overlooked. Yō was right about her outfit, she was used to dressing so modestly.

Ever since she learned her first song, music was the only time in her life that she stood out. But it came at a high mental cost that the pleasure of performing didn't seem worth it anymore.

"Oh~!" The woman checked her phone. "Look how late it is, oops!" She got up quickly and dusted the non-existent dirt on her dress. "I have to leave, but it was nice to meet you Ms. Sakurauchi. Ciao~!" She offered a peace sign and went in through the backstage door.

It wasn't strange that the woman knew her name, it was in the programs, but there seemed to be something more in her words. It was almost like she was acknowledging that she knew of her, and it felt almost dangerous. She was like a willow-o-wisp, terrifyingly magnetic, but surely disastrous.

It was different from the same tiresome litany of compliments that she was used to. Riko noticed a warmth lingering inside her still, and she wondered when the last time a compliment felt real. More than that, it was an acknowledgment of her being, and to be noticed was the most human she felt in a long time.

And to be deemed human, seen as an individual, was the first time she was baffled epiphany alluded to a greater experience she was missing out on. Had destiny written her out of a future? If she had to alter fate to correct this mistake, then so be it. The quick high this encounter granted was addictive, and Riko knew she needed another fix.