Backstage, Miriam was tuning her acoustic guitar. The old beat up instrument was a memento from days long past. She felt a smile creep across her face as she ran a slender finger along the grooves of the rosewood. "We've had a good run, haven't we girl.." Miriam whispered to the guitar as she remembered the first real song she'd composed that felt, real. She had to admit, being in a black leather corset, full length velvet dress, and dolled up while holding a beat up acoustic guitar. She felt a little odd, yet, she was always a little out of place...

[i] Several years ago...[/i]

Miriam sat at the corner of the busy little artist district of her town, playing a simple little blues number as pedestrians passed her by. She looked hopeful at her guitar case, which sat open in front of her. Several coins glittered among the soft red plush of the case. She had enough to grab lunch, but she would be going hungry tonight if she didn't get any more tips. 

Yet she was happy, she had the music. If the world crumbled around her, which judging from her current financial situation was maybe a few months off. She at least had her music. Her fingers danced along the strings, beginning her next song, it was one her ex always loved hearing. Yet he was like the others, gone when things got hard. She wasn't always the easiest to deal with, her music would always come first. She thought about their final conversation, the argument echoing in her head. 

"You're never going to be a real musician, you should go back to school. Nursing, office admin, programmer.."

He made sense, the chance of actually making it as a musician in this life was never easy. She had enough to eat, have a roof, and play, she was okay with that. Why couldn't he?

A soft clicking of her next listener rustled her thoughts back to the situation at hand. A woman stood before her listening, her lacy black dress looked so out of place. She must be a goth, Miriam thought to herself as she continued to play. As she finished her last song, the woman placed several bills in her guitar case. A black lipsticked smile crept across her face as she bowed her head to Miriam.

"You play wonderfully, so sad, but hopeful," the woman spoke softly. Miriam noted her voice had a very soft almost rhythmic tone to her voice. 

"Thank you," looking down at the bills, her voice nearly caught in her throat as she realized this was several hundred dollars. "I, you can't, it's just.." The woman placed a finger to her lips as she tapped the guitar. 

"You accept this, with my thank you. It's been so long since I've heard music like that. Tell me, why are you confining yourself to hiding in the shadows like this? You could be the stuff of legends..." She grinned mischievously as she gestured to her own outfit. "I sense you want to challenge the world, make them hear your music, like it or not..." 

Miriam looked at this woman, drawn in by the hypnotic swap in her voice. "I, goth acts are dimestore around here.." She stammered, "I want to be a serious musician, not some schlock act, no offense.." She said sheepishly. The woman sat beside her, Miriam noticed her pale skin was like, model level pale. She must have either had one heck of a sunscreen or never went out until the sun went down. 

The mysterious woman spoke again, "I want to make you an offer." She spoke quietly as she watched the rest of the pedestrians walk past. "If I said right here, you could produce an album, and be anyone you want. Who would you be?" Miriam looked at the woman incredulously, her suspicion of a prank starting to make her angry. Maybe her ex really wanted to mess with her now? 

Yet something about the confidence of this woman, drew her in like a moth to a flame. 

"I want to do an album, tell a story, love, loss, chasing the mistress of music and challenging her to become my ally.." Miriam muttered to herself. She felt stupid talking about what she really wanted, she had a production budget, she could whip up some top forty garbage and maybe make a few bucks..but something about telling this story through music felt, right? The woman looked at her, almost like she was trying to peer something even Miriam wasn't sure was really there. 

"Done," she smiled. "I want you to make your album about this dark angel of music." Blinking as she tried to catch her breath, this woman drew forth a white business card from her purse. She scribbled a number on the back of the card, then passing the card to Miriam. "I believe you have something interesting, I want to see where you go. Call this number tomorrow, if you know others who can help your dream. Tell them you have a patron who wants to see where you will go. I will come to you in one months time. Do not disappoint me little one." She placed a small roll of bills in Miriam's suitcase. "Please get a good meal and a good nights rest. My assistant tomorrow will help you with lodgings and your day to day needs tomorrow." The woman stood once more, Miriam reached a hand out to grab her arm. 

"I...I don't know what to say," The woman smiled, the first real warm smile she felt from this visitor. 

"Say nothing, but tell me your thoughts through your music." With that, she walked away. Miriam looked at the white card in her hand. The number was carefully written, but the name above caught her attention. 

[i] Marianne [/i]

"Miriam!" Donnie, the lead guitarist shouted, rousing her from her daydream. "We got press, and a few q and a's before showtime!" 

"Coming!" With that, Miriam quickly got to her feet and met Donnie for the press meeting. 

Meanwhile, Marianne sat with the other kindred as the crowd began to gather. Vampires, for the most part drew their life from blood. Yet Marianne was old, much older than many of her kind. She drew upon inspiration, hope, love, admiration, these fed her just as well as blood. Her eyes glittered as she looked to the others. 

"Miriam, was one of my favorite little projects from this era. I hope you all enjoy." She smiled pleasantly to the others.