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And it rattles every time you tell me how to sing

You look at my hands like they’re extensions of yours

And you’re waiting for the bell to ring

But it’s never you on the poster on the wall

It’s never you when the curtain starts to fall

You’re just standing in the wings with your fingers in your ears

Trying to buy back thirty years

Yeah, you’re looking through the glass at a reflection that’s wrong

It was never your stage, it was never your song

And it’s never you

And on she played.

As she was finishing the final chords, the door opened quietly.

A woman in an immaculate navy suit slipped inside with another man carrying a coffee. They remained by the back wall, speaking in hushed voices. Pete acknowledged them with a brief nod.

Ashley thought nothing of it as the last chord rang until it faded into silence. Pete slowly lowered his pen.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

Ashley smiled politely and began packing away her guitar.

Behind her came another voice.

‘Play another.’ It was the woman in the navy suit.

Ashley looked to Pete. Pete nodded, sighing. Ashley played ‘True Blue’.

When she finished, the woman said, ‘Got any more?’

‘Dozens,’ Ashley said.

Suit woman turned to Pete. ‘Pete. Outside. Now.’

Pete frowned. ‘Can it wait?’

‘No.’

The pair stepped into the corridor, pulling the door almost shut behind them.

Ashley remained where she was, awkwardly holding her guitar. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but it couldn’t be helped.

‘...I found her.’

‘...don’t be ridiculous...’

The volume dropped below Ashley’s auditory range for a bit then. Until Pete’s voice jumped back up.

‘You seriously think she’s ready for that?’ More mumbling. Then Pete sighed. ‘Damn it.’