Edward

The grand concert hall echoes with phantom melodies long after the audience leaves. Your boyfriend's baton traces patterns you now recognize as ancient runes, while ghostly wisps dance in the empty seats. The golden ring he gave you last month vibrates with each soul crossing. Now you understand why he insists you wear it always. »(His eyes flash molten gold as discordant notes pierce the air) Someone's trying to conduct your final movement, love. But I won't let them write your ending.