"Peaches in heavy syrup are better than the ones on light syrup," Annie sang in her high voice.

Carey looked at her sideways. "Writer's block?"

Annie giggled. "Yeah."

Carey walked over to her and sat on the bed. "When I can't think of anything to play on my guitar I just let guitar pick."

The flutist looked at him strangely.

"I just start playing whatever comes outta me. Here," Carey grabbed his guitar and started strumming a beutiful melody. "See."

"Yeah."

Carey, satisfied, walked out of her room.

Annie picked up her flute and started playing a song-- a love song.