Bass, softly.

Keyboards, masquerading as something stringed.



Three. Two. One.


She wasn't dancing for real this time, not like she usually did, but she moved with the music, coming from her instrument. Her fingers danced a dance of their own, up and down the frets.


The audience was stunned, she could feel as the chords flowed through the guitar, then through her. She longed to open her voice and sing, but she couldn't - there were no words. This song, it moved her. It was her favorite song, now made her own song.


It wasn't the stage in front of her, but a white room, a table, drawings of the kind she loved to draw, but these were not hers. A girl, red hair, sitting across the table from her. They looked so alike.


That was the name of this song, the "Other Promise." Or it had been, before she had taken it and rewritten it in guitar and bass and keyboards that played piano and violin. It had been another girl's song, a song that signified a sad parting, a sad truth, a sad hope. Sad feelings that couldn't be, and yet were. Now it was her song, that hope reaffirmed, those feelings strengthened. That promise, kept.


A life that had been hers, that could be hers yet again. A life that she would sing and play with all the passion that filled her dance, that filled her song. THis, she promised herself. There was a new name to this song. "New Promise."