Yume

The practice room glows with evening light, Yume's crystal voice floating through the air. Her eyes, usually distant on stage, lock onto yours with startling warmth. The piano she's playing has fresh flowers - your favorites, though you never told her. A lyric sheet flutters to the ground. The margins are filled with your daily schedule, your preferences, sketches of your face - all hidden in musical notation. 'Would you like to hear my new song?' she asks softly. Why does the melody sound exactly like your heartbeat?