On the left of the stage, Jesse starts to play his guitar. The drummer, a bearded man in his mid-thirties sitting behind him on a barstool, slowly beats on the drum set with his wooden mallets.

"I always seem to see things that I shouldn't. I never seem to get it right." Kris, standing to Jesse's right, nervously takes a deep breath. "I always seem to paint such pretty pictures, but they're always in black and white."

She takes a deep breath and steps forward, letting the flashing lights above them draw her attention from the crowd. "Everybody tells me that it isn't God's plan, and I'm just messing it all up. I know they're probably right and I should just bail. Turn my wheel towards the high road, but... It feels good to go left." She glances over at Jesse, who smiles reassuringly. "It feels good to miss-step."

Grabbing the microphone, she steps closer to the crowd as the drummer picks up the beat. "I paved my own roads and built my own castles. I made a world for myself. And then the flood rushed in and threw it all sideways, and my heavens gave away to hell." Her voice raises, Daniel crossing her mind. "Sometimes you just to find the fog and lie in it for a week or two on your own. Keep making things empty and shattering glass and ripping up seams you've sown."

"It feels good to forget." Jesse watches as her eyes begin to water. "It feels good to reset."

"Baby split the bottle between the two of them. Shut the blinds and lock the doors. Deadbolt. One sprawled out on the lavender couch and the other sat on the floor. Feet cold. And the mannequin walked and the dial tone talked, and the dirt bled blood when it should have bled mud. Do you see... what you do to me?"

Jesse smiles at her, repeating that last line with her. "Do you see what you do to me?"

The audience cheers as the drummer picks up his rhythm. She glances over at Jesse, who flashes a supporting grin as he continues to pluck at his guitar strings. Illuminating blue lights mounted above the platform flash upon them, dazzling in her eyes as she watches the crowd grow bigger as people leave their booths and the bar to come closer to the stage.

"Ohhh, ohhh." She gets into the rhythm, her leg stomping on the stage with each beat. "Ohhh-ohh.. Ohhh...."

As the drums fade out, Jesse continues to play guitar softly. She stares at him and can't help as a smile of her own spreads across her face. Oddly enough, she's never felt more comfortable singing. People clap and cheer as the song comes to its end.

Instead of looking at the crowd, Jesse focuses on Kris. "You're a natural!" He leans into the microphone in front of him. "Give it up for our very own Kris, everybody!"

Hollering and clapping grows louder and Kris turns pink. She leans into her microphone, still smiling. "Kris Levesque."

A few minutes later, after soaking in more applause from the crowd then having to cut through it, Kris and Jesse sit back in their seats at the bar.

"You did amazing, Kris!" The drummer says, giving Kris' shoulder a light squeeze as he passes by, carrying a large black case in the other hand. He turns to Jesse. "I will see you guys later."

She smiles. "Thank you!"

"Later, man." Jesse says and watches him slip off toward the exit. He turns back to Kris. "Steve's right. They're all right. You did great."

"I did alright." She says modestly. "I mean during the last verse I really could have—"

"You did great." Jesse repeats, laughing. He turns to Larry, who leans against the bar with his back facing them as he plays with a lighter. "Larry, go ahead and get her a drink to celebrate. Whatever she wants."

Larry slams the lighter on the counter and turns around to face her. "What would you like?"

"Oh. No thanks."

"I insist. It's on me." Jesse smirks.

She leans in to whisper to him so the bartender doesn't hear. "I'm underage."

His eyes widen and he looks off to the side. "Oh."

"Well, I'm eighteen—"

"Ohhh." He lets out a major sigh of relief.

Kris smirks, seeing where his mind is going. "Just not twenty-one yet."

"Kris, in here you're a rockstar." His smile widens as he leans closer to her. She can't help but notice the scruff along the contour of his jaw. "You can do whatever you want."

Nodding, she turns back to Larry. "I'll have whatever he's having."

Larry glances at Jesse. "The usual?"

"Yes sir." Jesse says, still staring at Kris.

She looks down nervously and notices blank ink on Jesse's arm poking out from underneath his sleeve. "Nice tat. What is it?"

"Which one?" He says, his smile turning into a menacing grin. He pulls up the arm of his shirt to reveal a long sleeve of tattoos covering his left arm.

Kris laughs, pointing at one on his upper bicep that looks like either feathers or leaves. It's hard to tell in the bar's dim lighting. "Let's start with this one."

"Dinner's ready." Hannah shouts, peering into the heated oven at the round pan with the handmade pizza on it. She reaches in with a folded towel and pulls the pan out, setting it on the oven next to two empty plates.

She reaches over to grab the pizza cutter from an open drawer near the sink and begins to cut it into eight large pieces, the sharp round blade slicing through the bread with ease. She uses a spatula to place a couple of pieces on each plate. "Garrett? Did you hear me?"

Sighing, she picks up a plate with each hand and makes her way down the hallway toward his room. "Hey, did you get the movie ready? Pizza's done."

As she turns the corner to enter his room, she comes to a sudden halt and gasps—the plates trembling in her hand as her eyes widen.

"Garrett?!"

His bed is empty.

♫ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʙᴏʟᴛ / ʟᴜɴᴀ ʙʟᴀᴋᴇ ♫