Blackouts (Pt. 2) - [Another Code: R]

Ashley had managed to survive through a whole song, and now she was ready to play the second – her song. True, she hadn't really written it entirely The song itself, the melody, not that part. She'd helped a bit with some of the background stuff, but here, by herself, there was no background stuff. And she wasn't even the one used to singing it. But all the same, she laid claim to it. He'd given it up without incident to her. But it still didn't feel like her own.

"Another, man, another," cried Tommy from his seat mere feet ahead. He, Sam, Janet, and Elizabeth were all seated at the table right in front of her, while the rest of the diner was, well...not so populated. A couple of employees from JC Valley that Ash recognized were lingering at the counter, enjoying some diner-prepared coffee together. Dad had probably asked them to come. Speaking of which, she'd seen Dad just a moment ago while she'd been playing...Where had he...-? Oh, there he was, emerging from the restroom hall. Bathroom break? Had he rushed on over so quickly he'd forgotten to use the restroom? Seemed like something Dad would do...

"Play the one about the river," Janet requested.

Of course. The one Ash was feeling most nervous about. The one that mattered the most. The one that was hers. She'd meant to play it first but had chickened out, pushing it to second.

Ashley smiled timidly, shirking at the notion that they actively wanted to listen.

"I don't...-" Ash began in a mumble, plucking at her strings absent-mindedly. She was running without a sound system, so she supposed that was part of why her friends were seated so close. But the diner was pretty small, too, so the projection wasn't really needed, it worked just fine with...-
"Come on, Ashley," Elizabeth teased. "Don't be a Pokey Pup. You have a demanding audience here."

Ashley laughed nervously in spite of herself, and readjusted her sitting position. She noticed Dad hovering to her right, studying the old photographs and newspaper clippings on the wall. Keeping a safe distance, acting aloof. Or maybe it wasn't acting, knowing him...

Right. The song.

Ashley cleared her throat and steeled herself. She flicked her pick against the strings, fine-tuning her instrument here and there, stalling the inevitable, until a minute or so later when she was finally ready to go.

A deep breath. Quivering nylon. Vibrating wood. Closed eyes. Trembling lips.

"~The river, the river, it tumbles on down; A blue flood, a true flood; it crumbles around...~"

Smiling faces. They're smiling, Ashley. Having a good time. You...are having a good time.

"~The current, the current, it pushes so strong; A cold rush, a bold rush, it pulls me along...~"

Practicing against the tree by Lake Juliet.
Practicing in the band room on campus. Practicing on the quad.

Huddled together over a computer screen. A notebook. A sketchpad.
Snuggling together in their pajamas in bed, a marathon of Pinkie Rabbit cartoons on a laptop.
A phrase, a sentence, a condemnation: it was over.

Pulled along all that way, just to be cut off.

"~I cannot fathom, I cannot follow; Aching arms, tired legs, won't allow
Me to arrive upon shore; I can only dive 'til I see no more...~"

Tears, drying up. Quicker than Ashley had wanted them to. It was always like that.

Even when her heart was overwhelmed, she'd force it back.

"Calm down, Ashley," the voices would say. "Calm down."

Aunt Jessica, Dad, her friends, even her enemies. It was always "Calm down, Ashley."

Stop crying. Grow up. Crying was weakness, she'd once been told. She didn't agree.

And yet when the tears started spilling, she'd always push back the flood. Dam up the river.

She wished she was brave enough to just dive, dive...

The music, the pain – one fed the other, which fed the other, which fed the other, in an endless whirpool.

The taste of french fries and nachos, the itch of mosquito bites, the damp, cold touch of grass blades beneath the blanket she sat upon. Garbed in his hoodie, garbed in his arms, giggling like a fool – a joke on the drive-in movie screen towering above. Laughter all around. His hands encasing hers within an oversized sleeve. The warmth – so warm – against her lips. It was a surprising sensation, awkward in its dampness matched with heat. But after the initial shock, it lit a spark in her chest and her stomach emptied in an instant.

Gentle, surprising, tingling...Her first kiss.

A dark room. Mom is scared. Everything is hazy, but that fact is clear. Mom is scared.

Wooden closet doors envelope Ashley. Mom sets her down. A pendant. A smile, burned into her brain.

Sayoko's face, Mom's face. It disappears into the dark blur ahead. A figure. Yelling.

A flash – a gunshot.

Silence.

"Ashley!"

"...Huh?!" Ashley snapped herself back to reality. Her head was throbbing, on fire. Her heart had skipped again. Her face was...burning up. It was warm, and wet.

Dad was right in front of her, his hand locked down on her left shoulder.

Confused by her predicament, Ashley went to lift her hands up to wipe at her tear-soaked cheeks, only to realize a guitar was rested in her lap. Her Lake Juliet peers were still seated right in front of her, agape with concern.

No good...This is no good. Oh, man, I can't believe...-

Ashley managed to clear her tears with her wrists, her breathing a bit jittery and she sniffled a couple of times. What the heck had happened?

"Ashley, can you hear me?" Dad's voice stiffly, sternly inquired.

"Wh-...? Of course I can...-" Ashley trailed off. That sounded bad, what he'd just asked. She couldn't even remember how or when she'd started crying. Or how far she'd even gotten into her song.

Dad pulled her face into his shoulder and gave her a tight squeeze. Trying to steady her breathing, Ashley tried to read her friends' worried reactions over Dad's back.

"You were really out of it for a minute there," Janet murmured, her thumb fidgeting a button on her blouse as she stared, wide-eyed, at her friend.

"Is she OK?" Tommy asked as Ashley's Dad let her go.

"Are you in pain?" Dad asked quietly.

Ashley shook her head, avoiding his gaze. He looked...scared. She didn't like it.

"Th...There's a bit of a headache, I guess, but...-" She pressed her right hand against her forehead in a daze, then shrugged up her shoulders, her face boiling with embarrassment. She sniffled, her face all gunky from sobs she hadn't even realized were happening. Unslinging her guitar strap off of her shoulders, she carefully set her guitar on the floor. She bumped it with her sneaker when she tried to rise up – the world had reformed and all, but it was tilting a little.

Wobbling steps away from her performance stool were met with some wary looks from her friends, and Dad kept hovering around her, as if he was ready to catch her should she fall.

She wasn't going to fall.

"Ashley, where are you...-?" Dad asked.

"I don't...know," Ashley earnestly answered, acknowledging her mishap as she slowed her troubled steps. She coughed, sniffed again, and rubbed her wrist over her nose. Yuck, still runny. Wiping gunk on her pants, she groaned quietly.

"You seem...rather upset," Dad noted, lingering behind her. She could hear her friends whispering about their curiosities, as well. "I know things are probably...rather tough right now. Breakups are...difficult, but...you just have to acknowledge that-"
"Dad," Ashley snapped – it was more of a whimper mixed with a scold. She spun herself around to face him. Her already pinkened cheeks started to glow even brighter as she noticed the perplexed looks of her peers at the table.

"Breakup?" Elizabeth repeated inquisitively, staring at Ashley with confused brows.

"So...-" Janet gasped in realization, clamping her palm against her lips with dramatic flair. "You left the band...That's why, isn't it?"

"N-no, that's...not...-" Ashley pushed hair over her shoulder as she scrambled for an explanation. "I mean, not entirely, but...-"

Ashley's stomach writhed. This was awful. This wasn't how they were supposed to find out about it. It was going to be some quiet, nonchalant thing she'd coolly pass off during a text conversation or...or an Internet chat, or whatever. Not like this. This left her vulnerable. Exposed. And not on her own terms.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Elizabeth pondered with her squinty-eyed, suspicious look.

Ashley just shook her head and glared at her father, who seemed to have comprehended his mistake.

"I can't believe you, Dad!" Ashley snarled. "You're so...awkward. You don't...-" She was flicking her wrists out in frustration now. "You have absolutely no...social...awareness. Do you?"

Dad grimaced, evidently pin-pricked by Ashley's remark. It was callous, she knew that. But she was angry, she was hurt – and she had a habit of letting loose words fly when that was the case. It often seemed like the only way to get Dad to listen.

"Ashley, I only meant to...help you realize what the problem is. You can't solve a problem without identifying the-"

"This-!" Ashley growled, tossing out upturned palms in aggravation. Childishly, in a fit, she stomped to the door, her eyes burning up because they had no more tears left to spill. "This is why I don't tell you stuff, Dad."

But Ash was already taking her leave. Dad, her friends, the food, the guitar, her horribly mediocre singing...She needed space from all of it.

"Ash?"
"Hey, whoa, wait...-!"
"Where is she going?"
"Ashley."

The clamoring of those in the diner was a wash of words in Ash's ear as she took her leave. She wanted to slam the door real hard on her exit, but chickened out. She was raging, but she had to keep it under control, right?

Stewing in her mixture of frustrations, Ashley wrapped her queasy stomach in her arms and trekked off down a path to her left. It led to the woods, and to old lady Graham's gardens. Jamming her hands in her pockets, she scratched at the inner fabric nervously as she paced. She shivered, her hair standing up. Yep...it was still pretty chilly outside, though moreso than earlier, with the sun having been set and all that. A tanktop wasn't going to cut it. She shouldn't stay out too long. But she needed...space. That was all it was.

So what if she'd had a breakup? That shouldn't stop her from pursuing what she cared about. Yea, it sucked. She'd really liked him. But it was stupid to think her first boyfriend was going to be the only one she'd ever have. It was equally stupid to think she'd become a famous rock star. Heck, even just making a living off of her music felt so unrealistic now. 'If you really want something bad enough, you'll get there eventually,' or whatever nonsense she'd used to tell herself, and her friends.

That doesn't mean I shouldn't try, I know, but...it just feels like such a lost cause. And how stupid is that to let myself believe, too, right? Of course this sort of thing will be difficult. I guess I just need to reorganize myself? As long as I just keep on playing, keep on writing, sooner or later I'll get to something good. Maybe not a rock star, maybe not famous, maybe not even making that much money, but...-

A bitter breeze swept through and stung at Ashley's skin. The early night was crisp and clean, the quarter moon starting to cast its glow upon hazy clouds above up in that endless well of bluish-black dreams, speckled with white ideas. Set to the tune of sneakers scuffing dirt and plants rustling in the wind, Ash found that moment of respite outside of her head that she needed. Things were not all they could be. Things were hard, and even when they weren't hard, they still hurt. There was still that prying doubt, that nagging sensation that for all the good things her peers had to say about her or her work, her passion, she wouldn't make it far with what she had.

Ashley suddenly had a desire to talk with someone, but not anyone who'd just seen her lose herself. Irked by her own inconsistency, she ran her fingers across the stickers on her phone, teasing at a loosened corner with her thumb. She took the phone out and made a call. That was one benefit of JC Valley taking up occupancy in this natural park – the den of scientists had ensured there was a strong signal in the area.

[Calling...]
[Matt]

She shivered as she walked, holding the phone up to her ear. Each passing dial tone brought more awareness of her elevated heart rate. Like some kind of mini panic attack.

What if something is wrong with me? What if my head is...sick? What if I have to see doctors and-
["Ash...-?"] Matt moaned drearily through the speaker, shaking her from stray worries.

"Muh-" Ash coughed out. Clearing her throat, she re-greeted, "Matt. H-hey, how're...-?"

["It's...really early..."] Matt cited through sleepy syllables.

Oh, gosh. Matt was in London. It was probably some ungodly hour for him. Urgh, stupid, Ash...Well, no use backing out.

"Ah, right," Ash spat. "Sorry, I wasn't...really thinking, I just...-" Her throat was tightening as she spoke. Just trying to speak in her unstable state of mind was a task. "-...I needed to talk to somebody, and...-"

["...Are you OK?"] Matt asked with some solemnity. ["Are you crying...?"] His voice was a bit crackled through the speaker.

Ash laughed through a dry sob.

"I guess," she mumbled sheepishly, smiling in spite of herself.

["Is something wrong?"] Matthew's senses were collecting as he drew up concern. ["What happened?"]

"Everything's...fine, I'm OK," Ash muttered, taking a deep breath as she pressed her free palm against her chest. "I...think I'm OK," she amended. A pause of lamentation passed before she added, "I don't know."

["Uh...All right,"] Matt mumbled. ["Did your trip to Lake Juliet not go so well, or...-?"]

"I'm...still here, actually."

["Oh."]

"I'm just having some issues, it's...just me," Ash tried to explain. "I tried playing music for the guys, and...it didn't...go so well."

["...Ah. Sorry."]

"I just feel like I'm...messing a lot of stuff up lately."

["Yea, you...mentioned that last time."]

"Right." Ashley swallowed, scratching at her neck. "What I...didn't mention was that, uh...my boyfriend, he, erh...he broke up with me, and...-"

["Oh. Uhh...jeez. That's gotta stink."]

"Yea, kinda."

["Wasn't he your band partner?"]

"Mm. Yea, and so...I couldn't handle staying in the band."

["Makes sense. That could be awkward."]

"I don't know. I feel like if I was more...grown-up, or...something, I could've made it work. You know? Like, if I could really put my music first, then...-"

["Maybe you just need some time off?"]

"Maybe...But he doesn't need me. Really. I'm...not all that good, honestly, and...-"

["You're probably better than you think. Isn't that, like, a thing with artists? They never think they're as good as they are."]

"Mm..." Ash nodded, her phone stuck to her ear as she paced along.

["Besides, that must be tough – trying to do something like that with all of that...emotional stuff going on. I know the feeling."]

"Yea..."

["I dunno. Just...don't quit, keep at it...that sorta thing."]

"Tsh. Thanks, Matt. You're...really encouraging," Ash teased his blunt and simple efforts.

["Heh. Sorry, I guess I'm not sure what else to say."]

"That's OK."

["And also...-"] Ash heard a crackled yawn come through her phone. ["-...it's so late...it's early."]

Aw, man. Right, he had been sleeping. And it was really cold out. She decided she ought to just turn back in, go back and...deal with things.

"You probably need to go back to bed, huh?"

["Yea...yea...probably..."]

"No worries. I didn't mean to wake you up."

["Eh...It's no problem."]

"Well...Thanks, Matt. We'll chat again soon."

["Sounds good. Take care of yourself."]

"I'll do my best. You, too." Ashley could feel her jaws chattering a little from the cold, and she swerved herself around, picking up her pacing as she headed back to the residential area.

["Oh, and good job, Ash."]

"Huh?"

["We had a whole conversation without you drifting off into space. Heh."]

"...Heh..." Ashley's insides churned. Matt was always one to tease her about that – it was in good nature early on. Then became more serious. And now, that he assumed she was taking measures to prevent it, back to the facetious end of the spectrum.

["Yep. So...Good night."]

"Night, Matt."

Whisking herself back toward Bob's diner, Ashley felt like an idiot. A juvenile, whiny idiot. Running off on folks like that – they were probably worried about her. And she'd made such a scene...Ugh. How stupid. She was mad at Dad, but she probably shouldn't have made that public knowledge. But she lost her patience with him so much in recent times...It felt like the only way to get him to actually take in, digest, and process what she needed him to was to, well, yell a bit.

As she walked through the early evening's bitter cold, Ashley needed a distraction from herself. She started to hum. She hummed to herself for a while – it gave her head something relaxing to do. She hummed the songs she had meant to play for her friends. Losing herself in familiar melodies, apart from lyrics or images or faces or words...it brought a small serving of clarity.

As she drew close to Bob's Snack Shack, she could make out two figures standing in front of the entrance door, caught in a small web of yellow light from above the entryway. It was Dad and Bob. She trailed off her hums and sighed to herself. They noted her presence and Bob smacked Ashley's Dad on the back briskly.

"Ah, see, Doc? What'd I tell ya?"

"Yes, well...-" Dad nodded, scratching his chin contemplatively. "You were right, Bob."

"'Course I was," Bob bragged. "I know the demographic. Anyways...-" He sauntered back a few steps and opened the door to his diner. "I'll let you two sort yourselves out, n' then come on in. I'll have some hot coffee waitin' for ya."

"Thank you," Dad bid him with a grateful nod, putting his hands in his pockets as he eyed his child.

The door closed, and Ashley walked into the yellow lamplight where her Father stood, like a runaway pup come home with her tail between her legs.

"Dad, I'm...-" she started up with a cough. Clearing her throat as she stopped before him, she finished her thought. "Sorry I got so...worked up."

"It's all right," he replied solemnly. "I apologize if I...embarrassed you in front of your friends."

Ashley's eyes darted off aimlessly, glancing down the cobblestone road to her left. She opened her lips, hesitated, and closed them. She considered a light-hearted reply.

"Hey..." She shrugged again sheepishly, looking up at him. "What are Dads for, right?"

He dropped a laugh and shook his head slowly, slightly. Smiling down at her, she could tell that his temper from earlier seemed to have quelled. She took a step toward him, her arm muscles jittering slightly from the chill. She kind of wanted a warm hug from Dad, but he was too absent-minded to think to do that. It wasn't really his style. He was a bit of a stereotypical scientist in that way.

Did you used to be like that, Mom? Before I came into the picture? Awkward, clumsy, unaware?

Maybe you were. I guess I've got my own weirdness, too.

"Is everything all right?"
"Hm?"

Ash blinked at her Dad's curious look.

"Oh." She scratched dried gunk from her eyelashes and sighed. "I'm not sure," she replied to his question more formally. "Just when I think I'm OK, I get...those flashes, and...I just don't...-" She puffed out an exhausted breath, the vapors slightly visible.

Dad nodded with understanding. Wasn't he going to, like...invite her to come in, or...-?

"It's not easy," he said, thoughtfully stargazing. "Saying good-bye to someone you love – especially when you don't have a choice in the matter."

Ash felt her chest tighten. Here she was, making a big stink over some dumb breakup, when Dad had lost the love of his life in a matter of seconds – gone, permanently. No closure, no discussion, just...gone. Ashley missed her late Mother, sure, but...she'd only been three years-old. There wasn't nearly as much for her to miss. Barely anything she remembered. But Dad certainly could remember Sayoko. Seeing the stars reflecting in Dad's stoic, still eyes, Ashley's heart cracked a bit.

"All you're left with are the memories," Ashley muttered.

Cold hands tickling her stomach. Warm breath against her neck. Nails scratching against her scalp. Songs they'd created together. And that voice of his...

"Even the good ones," Ashley added, "they can still hurt. Huh?"

Dad nodded, tapping the back of his shoe's heel against the concrete.

"Indeed, they can," he agreed wistfully. "I think...-" He scratched at his stubble, nodding to himself. "I think those are the ones that hurt the most, really."

Ashley allowed her father a few seconds to mull over his thoughts. She swallowed the lump in her throat and rubbed her numbing fingers against numbing biceps.

Ashley theorized, "They remind you of...what you had. That happiness is a...real thing. And then that...reminds you of how you've lost it." Her teeth were chattering a bit as she shuffled her way closer to Dad, and closer to the diner's entrance. "And you wonder if...if you'll ever find it again."

Dad finally noted her approach as she reached his side. He realigned his glasses and offered her an empathetic smile.

"Something like that, I suppose," he conceded.

Ashley hopped up and down on her toes a bit, trying to convey how cold she was without being too blunt about it.

"Let's get you out of this chill," Dad decided, raising his brow at his daughter's antsiness.

"Sounds great," Ashley hurriedly spat, all too eager to make her way inside.

Her friends were still there, in the same place they had been, though their food was about gone by now.

Some relieved 'hello's' and 'hi's' were exchanged, and Ashley apologized, assuring she'd try again after a hot drink.

Bob had a pot of coffee brewing behind the counter, and Ash followed her Dad to the stools.

"Wow, kid," Bob noted with a sniff, pouring one mug of coffee. "You really are cuttin' your teeth on us, huh?"

As Bob set down the first steaming, dark drink in front of her Father, Ashley gave his a quizzical look. He laughed as he spun around. Pouring a second coffee, he added to his remark.

"Goin' all bonkers on us, walkin' out in the middle of a show, makin' a whole scene..."

Ashley's face contorted into a contained pout at Bob's words, but as he set a fresh mug of coffee on the countertop before her, he finished.
"You really are practicin' to be a proper rock star, ain'tcha?"

Ashley puffed a sheepish laugh at his teasing , and eagerly wrapped her palms around the ceramic mug, letting her trembling hands soak in the warmth.

"That's, uh, decaf, by the way," Bob added, filling a mug up for himself.

"Thank you, Bob," Ashley's Dad said with a nod.

"Yea, thanks," Ash followed suit.

Bob tipped his hat to the Robbins, then cracked open a tiny, plastic cup of creamer, dripping it in with his coffee. Ashley watched her Dad blow tiny ripples in his own drink, then take in a sip of the hot stuff, but found the idea horrifying. How could he drink it black, and so hot like that?

After sighing out with satisfaction, he waggled his index finger in that awkward way of his.

"That's it," he mumbled, seemingly to himself.

"...What is?" Ashley asked.

"What you were saying, about memories..." Dad nodded, staring off at a poster hanging up on the wall above. "It's imagination. That's what it is. It's something that...that a scientist and a musician can both relate with each other on. The driving force behind their work."

Her jaw slightly agape, Ashley's head, tilted upward, slowly found its way tipping down. He was trying, in his weird little way, to connect with his child. She allowed her Father to go on.

"We can remember what something was like, and then...-" He nodded some more to himself. "We imagine it, imagine how to recreate it, or how to make it exist in a way it didn't before."

Ashley shrugged, reaching into the basket to her left for some sweetener packets and creamer. The scent of the coffee was invigorating. Her time at college was creating some bad habits, perhaps, and a coffee addiction was one of them.

"That's all well n' good, Doc," Bob put his two cents in. "But if ya just sat around imagining stuff all day, nothing would get done."

"Exactly," Dr. Robbins said whole-heartedly. "Imagining is the painful part – the longing, the desire, pining for something that doesn't exist in the present...Then you have to work to make it exist."

Ashley sighed through her nose as she trickled sweet condiments into her drink, lightening its color. If this was supposed to be his way of encouraging her to move on...-

"Ashley," Dad said to her after another delicate sip. "When you have your...your episodes, what d-"
"The blackouts?"

"Yes, yes. What do you find yourself imagining when you experience them?"

"Oh. W-well, I...-" A grunt came out as Ashley ran her fingernails through her hair. She was not inclined to go into details about her flashbacks. Not with Dad, certainly not in public. "Things I'm...sensitive to."

"Sensitive to?" Dad seemed curious about that one. Well, yea. She'd been vague.

"Yea. Sensitive to," Ash repeated, wishing Dad could take a hint. "Personal stuff," she clarified as she stirred her drink around with a tiny plastic stick. Ashley hoped her cheeks weren't flushing as she had to hold back the less appropriate memories coming to mind. Swirling together like the sweetened liquid in front of her, sensations of all sorts flew around in her head. Not all of them were good.

"Things you write songs about?"

Ashley's head clicked a couple of gears together at her Dad's assertive hypothesis. She let the idea bleed together with her creamy, warm coffee as she drank in a few gulps.

"Mm-hmm," she acknowledged through her nose as she drank.

"Then are they really so personal, after all?" Dad slyly considered, wiggling his finger up with a thoughtful shrug.

Ashley's nose wrinkled at his words.

"Yea, they are still," she insisted.

"Yet you won't talk about them."

"Because talking is...frustrating. Difficult."

"And singing songs is...easier?"

"...Not really. I guess not, no. But it...makes more sense somehow.

"Is that why you keep avoiding seeing seeing a doctor?"

At this, Ash's throat caught on too large a sip. She had to force it down in a hard swallow that stung. Clearing her throat afterward at casually as she could, Ash rubbed her fingers against her sternum as the pain lingered in her chest.

Do I like having these...blackouts? I mean, sure, some times they take me back to times with Mom. What few memories I have of her. I once sought those out and all. And today, I've been doing it with my boyf-...with my ex.

"After your Mother died," Dad recalled with a pause, "I went right back to work. I didn't...allow myself the time to grieve her loss. I just kept re-living those last few moments with her in my arms, over and over..."

Ashley stared down at her coffee, unable to see her reflection in its creamy surface. Her Father continued.

"As if there was some special, hidden meaning hiding within them." He sighed through his nose and took a swig of hot coffee. "But there wasn't. I can re-live those moments a hundred times – I'm sure I have by now – but it was just a dying woman's words. Mutters and mumbles as she choked on her own...-" He trailed off, rubbing his fingers through tired eyes beneath his glasses.

Jeez, Dad...Why are you talking about this? You don't need to get yourself worked up thinking about that sort of thing...

"But each time I remember those moments," Dad murmured on, "I'm reminded that I...am alive. And that soon enough, I won't be."

"Dad..."
'Soon enough?' C'mon, Dad, you're not that old...

"Sayoko wanted her research on human memory to bring people relief," Dad explained in melancholy. "And I fear that all it ultimately has brought has been pain – but with it, something important to consider."

"Our memories make us who we are," Ashley acknowledged. She had another gulp of coffee, tapping her fingertip against the side of her mug. "That's what we can leave behind...before we blackout forever."

Ash nodded wistfully, then looked up to her Father. Sayoko's loss had hit him hard, no doubt. Ashley had barely known Mom – it was her lack of presence that had brought pain. The lack of knowing who she was. Dad had known her, really well – and he'd lost her. And now he seemed like he was becoming the sort who might never love like that again, too afraid of the inevitable loss. Was that how Ashley wanted to be?

"And what's that?" Dad wondered. "What can we leave behind?"

"Questions," Ashley concluded. She drank inbetween sentences. "We can leave behind things for others to consider. Mom lives on in our memories...and that has led us to consider things we wouldn't have otherwise. That's what I want my music to do: to linger in people's memories, to raise questions for them to consider. When I have my blackouts, it's not just memories I'm replaying in my head. It's questions I'm asking myself. Things I'm...considering. I guess that's one way we're different, Dad."

"One way?"

"Well, OK – there's lots of ways," Ashley said quietly and with a light laugh. "But I mean...Science leaves new questions for people to consider by answering old ones. It causes people to consider the world around them and how it works. And music, that...-" Ashley clutched her hand against her chest and took a deep breath, staring down at blank space as she considered her thought. "Music, I think that's about the musician considering things about...themself, which...has the same effect on whoever listens to it."

Bob, who had been hunched over his laptop this whole time, chuckled.

"What?" Ashley grumbled defensively, her head shrinking into her shoulders a bit.

"Nah, nothin'," Bob dismissed with a flick of his wrist. He slurped his drink and shook his head a little. "Yer both just makin' me feel a little...small over here, ha."

"Small?" said Ashley, abashed that she might've come across as haughty.

"Well," Bob tipped his head to one side. "Just...talkin' about leavin' your mark on the world, and here I am...-" He gestured toward his screen. "Managing sales for microwavable snacks. Probably not much I'm makin' anyone consider, other than whether or not it's worth ordering frozen foods over the Internet."

"But Bob," Dr. Robbins put in, "isn't your whole goal to spread the joy of Salmon Rice Burgers across the world?"

"Of course," Bob playfully agreed with a sassy smirk. "I'm just sayin', this ain't changin' lives the way you two are talkin' about."

"It helps change my life," Ashley insisted. Bob gave her a quizzical look. "Bob, the SRB – my Mom was the one that inspired you to start doing that. Right?"

"Ah..." Bob nodded, scratching his chin. Indeed, about 15 years ago on a trip to Lake Juliet – when Bob was just working a food stand – Sayoko had given him the seed of inspiration that had eventually grown into Bob's primary product, the SRB. Unlike a normal hamburger, the Salmon Rice Burger was still yummy even when it was cold.

"She was a scientist," Ashley cited, "but she still helped you – a cook – consider a new idea. And now, every time I eat one of those, it reminds me of how my Mom's idea is...being shared with all kinds of people, through your online store."

"Hm." Bob was nodding slowly, hopefully mulling over Ash's notion.

"For all you know," Ash went on, "something you did, or...or said, some way you interacted with someone else – it could've had a big impact on them, even if you didn't realize it. Just like my Mom and the Salmon Rice Burgers you make."

"All right, I getcha," Bob said with a ho-hum shrug. "But don't make too big a thing of it, kid. I'm just a guy who loves to cook. I'm not making big waves in the grand scheme of...universe...stuff."

"Well, you're still doing your part," Ash piped in with optimism. "You're giving a musician and a scientist a place to...get warm and refuel."

"Ah, haha," Dr. Robbins chuckled. "You're a crucial part of the creative process, Bob."

"Heh. Yep, kid," Bob said with a humored nod. "You're quickly pickin' up on tools of the rock star trade: positive spin. Ya always gotta spin the PR in a direction where things come up roses."

Ashley smiled awkwardly at Bob's remark and shrugged. She finished off her coffee as her friends started clamoring from across the diner.

"So," Tommy started, bumping Ash's left shoulder with his knuckle. "How's our rocker holdin' up?"

"Yea," Sam jumped in, nudging Ashley on her right arm. "You bailed in the middle of a show, man."

Ashley warily shrugged off their remarks, her back still turned to them as she sat in her stool.

"What'd I say, guys?" Janet scolded in a hushed tone from behind. "Give the girl some space."

Elizabeth set a stack of dirty dishes on the counter to Ash's left as Janet bickered with the boys.

"Ah, thanks, Beth," Bob grunted, leaving his laptop long enough to set the plates in the sink.

"Are you all right?" Elizabeth asked Ashley with suspicion. "You didn't catch a cold or something, did you?"

"No," Ash sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to...just disappear like that, exactly, I...-" She glanced over to her Dad, who was slowly working his way through his coffee. "Sorry I worried you guys," Ash said.

"Hey, hey, it's totally not a problem," Janet assured. "You must have a lot on your mind."

"Yea, breakups are pretty cruddy," Sam cited. This earned him a spiteful glare from Janet.

"Well, it was probably the right decision," Elizabeth tried to encourage. "He was just dragging you down, anyway."

"Actually," Ash mumbled sheepishly, "He broke up with me, but...-"

"Oh." Beth seemed taken aback by that notion.

"That stuff happens," said Tommy. "Ya gotta just roll with it and keep on keepin' on, ya know?"

"I know," said Ash, containing her wistfulness as best she could.

"Don't be a mope," Beth scolded gently. "A pout is unbefitting for the stage."

"They've got a point," said Bob, scrubbing a sponge at some dirty dishes behind the counter. "Ya wanna be a rock star, ya gotta take these things in stride."

Ashley's head spun. She flicked up her hands in a sudden, irate gesture.

"Could you guys stop calling me that?" she snapped, her frustration spilling out through her tone.

At the tense silence she was treated to, Ash's cheeks were burning again, and she hunched over a bit, elbows propped onto the counter, her hands against the sides of her face.

She mumbled out bitterly, "I'm not a...rock star...At this rate, I don't even...-" She trailed off with a shake of her head, continuing to avoid everyone's no-doubt concerned gazes.

"Ashley," said her Dad with some worry. "Is that what this is all really about? You're feeling frustrated with your music?"

"I'm just sick of lying to myself," Ashley explained matter-of-factly. "Now that I'm not in a band anymore, it's...becoming very clear how little people cared about my work. Like, my own work, the stuff I make all on my own..."

"Oh, stop," said Elizabeth. In a way, Ash was kind of appreciating the girl's bluntness. "Don't be so dramatic. Your music is great, you just need to keep at it."

"Yea, totally," Tommy said in earnest. "Maybe getting serious about music isn't what we do," he said, in reference to his own band, a more casual thing he did for the fun of it. "But that doesn't mean I don't respect what you're goin' for."

"Yea, I have all of your songs on my music player," Janet added her support. "And my favorite ones are the ones that are just you and your guitar."

"Really?" Ashley was dubious. Janet was the sort to say what she think people wanted to hear. Either way, true statement or not, it was still nice to hear some support. Her Lake Juliet crew wasn't one she was especially close with, but unlike her newer college friends, she could at least trust that their hearts were in the right place, looking out for her. "Agh," she groaned with a slight head-shake, still refusing to make eye contact. "But it's nothing special. It's not...good. Not really."

"Ya know, Ash," said Sam, "takin' your songs seriously is one thing, but beating yourself up about it is too much."

"Yea," agreed Tommy. "Aw, man, like that one guy...?" He and Sam shared a moment of remembrance over someone.

"Dude," Sam tried to snap Ash out of her stupor by prodding her shoulder. "Don't do that to yourself. Gotta keep your spirits up."

"You want to be a pro musician, don't you?" Dad recollected.

"Yea, but...-"

"So keep playing," Elizabeth advised sharply. "I know that boys...-" She reached backward and gave Tommy a bit of a shove. He grinned awkwardly. "-...can be difficult, and I have an idea of how annoying it is, not having your Mom around. But instead of pouting about it – which really doesn't suit your complexion at all – you should be using it to your benefit. Making music that considers those things about you, that has other people considering things...-" She wriggled her hand vaguely in the air. "What you were prattling about earlier."

By now, Ashley's spirits were at least determined enough to be looking her friend in the eyes as she heeded those words. She nodded in understanding, letting Beth's opinion sink in.

"Mm..." was all Ashley had to say, re-aligning her hair so it wasn't falling over her face.

"So when you're ready," Janet said, evidently eager to move things into a less-melancholy mood, "I think you still have a setlist to finish, right?"

"Now," Dad was quick to mutter out, "Janet, I'm not sure if-"
"No, I'm fine, Dad," Ashley insisted, getting right up from her stool.

"Are you sure?" her Father double-checked, watching Ash approach her guitar case in the corner of the diner.

"Nope," Ashley honestly replied with a shrug, plucking her beloved red guitar up from its bed and slinging the strap over her shoulder. "I'll...look into that later. I promise."

"Do you still have the doctor's number?" Dad wondered – he was understandly worried about the matter being brushed aside.

"Yes," Ash replied. "Tomorrow – before our fishing trip. I'll set up an appointment."

This seemed to placate her Father a bit, as he relaxed back into his seat against the counter.

"All right," Dad conceded. "But if you play right now...are you certain that you won't...have another blackout?"

"Nope," Ash repeated again, clicking open the latches on her case. "But right now, what I am certain of is that I want to play my guitar."

"Woo!" Janet cheered, flipping her palms against each other in peppy applause.

"Gettin' back on the horse!" Sam decried. "Yea!"

Beth and Tommy added their cheers as they all regrouped at the table in front of Ashley.

Ashley smiled timidly at the lot, then glanced over to her Dad with an exaggerated shrug.

"I've got an audience to try to pull this together for," Ashley cited, a grin finding its way across her face. "I'm not in a band, and this audience is tiny..." She smiled at the table her friends sat at.

"Woooo!" Janet hollered, her shout rattling the diner.

"And loud," Ashley added, giving Janet a playful glare. There was a bit of laughter as they all teased Janet.

Not everyone I want to be here...ishere...

Ash pulled out her cell phone from her pocket, setting it down inside her guitar case as she recalled her conversation with Matthew. She sat down in her 'performance chair,' getting comfortable with her guitar. Glancing across the diner, she noted Bob's attention was focused on her now, and her Dad was lifting his coffee mug up toward her.

Ash pressed her fingers against her chest and took a deep breath, imagining Mom sitting in the seat she had just occupied – the seat right next to her Dad. She imagined Mom's bright smile, Mom's hand waving at her, encouraging her.

But we don't always get a say in the venues we get to play.

Ashley re-tuned her instrument a bit, getting herself mentally prepared to try again.

Just because I want to be a pro musician – really bad – doesn't guarantee I'll make it big...

Ashley sniffed, rubbed her nose with her wrist, readjusted her wristbands, flicked her hair over her shoulders, and drew her guitar pick

But I'm going to keep playing, keep writing, and keep singing. If not for my audience – however big or small – then for myself.

Ash struck a few opening chords, reminding herself of the progression the song took.

With her friends egging her on to go for it, she smiled with one half of her face, taking a deep breath and steadying herself. She began the song with a trickle of fingered strings. She began to hum the main melody – the one she'd normally sing. She couldn't quite handle singing the lyrics right now. The humming would have to do – for now. One step at a time, and she'd find her footing again. Ashley wanted to focus just on the music. Just her and the song.

As she struck the first full chord in the song, Ashley closed her eyes, and let the world go black.