
Hosted by Edge of Dusk · EN

Jade thinks up a list of possible events that could lead to the planks being replaced. Maybe Brock turned a scavenged V8 engine into a custom guitar amp, wanting to surprise her, but while trying to lower it from the ceiling the rope broke, dropping the engine, breaking the stage in the process? No, the club owner is the type of person that would only fix up the hole in that case, saving the planks that didn’t break. What if Brock wanted to surprise her with a sudden light show, and installed a bunch of wires underneath the stage? He’s a crafty guy but maybe he messed up somewhere which could’ve ended up somehow destroying the stage? That seems a bit more realistic to Jade. She jumps up into the air, rotating a clean 180 degrees and floating downwards phasing her head through the flooring to see if there are indeed wires underneath. It’s pretty dark down there, but she can see enough to tell with certainty that there are no wires underneath the stage. Another theory debunked. Jade pulls her head back up and hovers to the edge, taking a seat there looking out towards the empty club. If only she could go back to that night to see what took place. She sits there for a while, thinking about all of it, the garage, her apartment, the club. All the great experiences she had there, sometimes it feels like it all happened yesterday. Jade was always an expert in losing herself while reminiscing, let alone if she was playing her guitar, she’d find herself back in the past as if it were the present. Thats it! She realizes that she can go back to that night, only she can. Only she can lose herself so much in her music that she can relive her memories. She stands up, moves to the center of the stage and slides her guitar into her hands. She looks into the empty club, readying her fingers to play her final song. The unfinished song, to completion. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath out of habit, and starts strumming her electric guitar. Jade then starts to sing; I thrive for a dance with danger Her touch sets my soul aflame The way she takes me for a spin I’m lost in the heat of the game Her rhythm keeps pulling me in Every move becoming my new favorite sin Jade continues the song until she reaches the final chorus. She thinks back to the garage and how she felt when she was looking at the old photos of her and the band, playing the notes, she thought of when she was there earlier tonight flawlessly. She then reminisces about her old apartment, how calm, peaceful and safe it always felt. She remembers the rush she felt when she found and played the limited-edition vinyl from Brock. Jade’s music flows over to the same unique sounds she produced in the apartment. And just like in the apartment she starts to perform beautiful aerial movements, further losing herself to the song she has yet to finish. She reaches the final note of the chorus, but doesn’t blank out this time, Jade feels a fire burning deep inside her. An unextinguishable flame of passion that fuels her. Jade starts to play the final guitar solo, her fingers sliding up and down the neck of her guitar like it’s child’s play. Twirling and dancing around in the air. She is burning with passion, every note giving off sparks in her mind. She feels warm, hot even, and that’s when she remembers what happened that night. This hot flaming feeling she is experiencing right now, it’s more than just her passion she is feeling. It’s the way she died. Now she knows, she had known about it all this time, she just didn’t realize it yet. Jade had always had a thing for fire, it just fascinated her. She wasn’t a crazy pyromaniac, she just thought it was beautiful. The flames were so unpredictable, dangerous yet elegant in a way. She had always resonated with it, like she in a way was part of it. Her bandmates knew about her love for fire, and together they had asked the club owner multiple times if they couldn’t install flamethrowers on the stage for a concert, but he unfortunately never allowed it. Brock, however, knew a guy that worked backstage in the club who was a fan of the idea. So, one day they went behind the owner's back and installed them anyway. Knowing how obsessed Jade was with the idea of flamethrowers while performing Brock decided to keep it a surprise for her. And then the fateful day came of the concert, Brock made sure his buddy that helped install the flamethrowers was in the audience to ensure Jade’s encore, and that is exactly what Jade did. She now remembers everything, and this is how it went: She went up to the stage alone and started to play her guitar, the audience seemed more riled up than ever before. As the fans got more excited, so did Jade, and she felt that feeling again, she started to lose herself to the music and her passion for it. She kept playing through the song, moving majestically over the podium while doing so. As she starts nearing the last part of the song, she feels a wave of heat coming up from behind her. It was the flamethrowers; Brock had activated them at the perfect time. As the stage lit up from behind her, Jade felt ecstatic! She couldn’t possibly describe the rush she was feeling in words, however, she could in song. She started the final part of her song, it came so naturally to her, every note flowed perfectly into the next, and the audience was loving it, shouting out Jades name in admiration. But Jade did not hear them, she had entered her zone, where all she could hear was the music, and all she could feel was the warm embrace of her passion, and the heat from the flamethrowers behind her. But that’s when it all went wrong. The flamethrowers malfunctioned, or maybe one of them wasn’t installed properly, she doesn’t exactly know how, but somehow, the stage caught fire. People called out to her to get off of the stage, screaming her name, but she didn’t hear them. She was too occupied by the euphoria she was experiencing; this was the nicest gift someone could have ever given her. Sadly, this would be the final gift she would ever receive. Jade, along with that podium, was set aflame. She didn’t experience any pain, she just kept playing until the song was finished... It was nobody’s fault, if anyone’s it was the music’s fault really. But Jade died that day, doing what she loved. Jade finishes the song and opens her eyes again to the empty dark club. She now realizes why she couldn’t recall the final part of the song, it was linked to her final moments, hidden inside her own mind, but she remembers it all now. She lets herself fall back, floating in the air. She hovers there for a moment, guitar still in hand trying to collect her thoughts. This sure was an intense night. She thinks back on all the things she found, the journey she went on to finish her final song. She feels happy that she finished it, it’s a masterpiece! But she also thinks of Brock and the band, how bad they must feel, Brock especially. He meant it all so well. Her train of thought gets interrupted by a single pair of hands applauding her. Jade looks up in confusion, checking the direction the noise is coming from. At the foot of the stage, she sees another ghost, but it’s not someone from the cemetery. He seems so recognizable though. No, could it be? Dad?! She can’t believe her eyes; she hasn’t seen her father in so long she didn’t recognize him right away. Jade swoops down quickly, straight into his arms. He looks down at her with pride in his eyes, telling her what an impressive artist she has become. Jade holds him tight; she didn't think she was going to see him again. Sure, she figured he was probably a ghost somewhere too, but he wasn’t at the graveyard, and she never found him. She just figured he was somewhere traveling the world, haunting some people or something. Her dad reassures Jade, that no matter how much time there is between people’s deaths, that the powerful bonds we care a lot for, will lead to you being reunited, always. She looks up at him with teary eyes, and smiles. Together they return to the graveyard, all the eager ghosts are still there waiting for Jade. She calls out to them, telling them they’re going to get what they have all been waiting for. Her dad takes place among the audience, on the front row, and Jade starts playing her song again, this time to its end.

Jade sets her guitar aside for a moment and takes another careful look around. It really bothers her that there is still a record on her old player. She floats over to inspect it more closely. The player sits on an old, small table in the corner of the room. She remembers playing all kinds of records on that player, there wasn’t a day when she hadn’t used it. Jade reaches the player and carefully removes the record to inspect it. It is a beautiful vinyl, with fiery details along the edges, but she didn’t recognize it. Hoping to find its cover, she begins scanning the area. It seems unusual for anyone to leave a record lying out without its cover, so it has to be nearby. Sure enough, next to the table, half-hidden under dust, she finds the empty record cover on the floor. That’s probably why she hadn’t noticed it right away. Jade picks it up and brushes off the dust to see what record it is. After a few swipes, it is revealed to be a limited-edition record of one of her favorite albums by a local band called Smokey Bandits. They had blown up one summer, but of course, Jade knew about them long before. They had always been a big inspiration to her when she started writing her own songs. Jade is stunned. She knew about these limited-edition records but never managed to get her hands on one. She sets the cover down on the table and picks up the record again, placing it carefully on the player. She gently lowers the needle onto the vinyl, and as the turntable starts to spin, the room is filled with the familiar sounds of some of her favorite songs. Overcome with joy, she can’t help but play along. She knows every song by heart. As the album progresses, she goes from playing wild riffs, to smooth melodies, to complex solos. By the time the album is nearing its end, Jade isn’t ready to leave this state of musical bliss. She feels as though the music is pulsing through her veins. She continues playing, completely losing herself in the moment. Floating all over her old apartment, she performs aerial spins and movements while producing unique sounds on her guitar. And just like that—it clicks! She starts playing her unfinished song, fueled by the burning inspiration from the album she just discovered. Effortlessly, she adds a whole new section to the final chorus. Now, all she needs is the outro to finish the song! Jade stops playing and slings her guitar over her back. Excitement surges through her as she twirls in the air. She floats back to the record player, ready to properly store the vinyl. Taking the cover from the table, she looks for the opening to slide the record inside, but then something catches her eye. There is a small note tucked inside. Curiosity gets the better of her. She pulls it out and sees that something was written on it. Dear Jade, You’re the most badass chick I’ve ever met. You make me treasure every single memory we make together, both with and without the band. I hope this gift ignites your spirit as much as you have kindled mine. Brock PS: How did you like my surprise during the concert at the club? Let me know! The record was a gift from Brock. Did he take the picture Jade found in the garage? Her mind is filled with questions once again. It seems as if Brock liked her more than she initially thought. He was never really a very communicative person; had he kept his fondness for her to himself all this time? And what surprise was he talking about? Jade tries to remember the day of the concert. She recalls arriving with the rest of the band, having a small drink beforehand, and getting along with all of them. They gave a great show—one of their best, she thought. She remembers finishing the show, but the audience demanded an encore. They were specifically calling out for Jade; people really loved how wild she could be with her guitar. She recalls going on stage alone to perform a personal song, one that wasn’t meant to be played with the entire band. It was the song she never finished. She can remember standing on the stage alone, starting to strum her guitar, the crowd going wild, but after that, her mind just goes blank. Jade is left very confused. Why can’t she remember what happened after that? Also, why would she decide to play an unfinished song as an encore for such a big crowd? More importantly, why is it so hard to remember all of this, and why is this the first time she thought of it again? And she still didn’t know what Brock meant by the surprise at the concert. It is clear to Jade that to get answers, she will have to go back to the place where it all happened. It is her last stop anyway, so it will be like killing two birds with one stone, she figures. With that thought, she takes the record off the player, puts it in its cover, and lays it back on the table with the note on top, readying herself to leave for the club. She flies over to the window, pausing for a moment to look at the moon. All she ever wanted was to finish her song. She sighs, telling herself that she will still finish it, but she also needs to find out why it is so hard to remember that night at the club. She nods to herself and phases through the window, heading for the club. It didn’t take long for her to get there. One benefit of being a ghost is being able to fly everywhere, it saves a lot of time you’d otherwise lose in traffic. She arrives at the club and enters by phasing straight through the roof. The room is pretty dark, but that is no longer a problem for Jade since she became a ghost. She slowly moves through the space, looking around carefully, trying to remember the night of the concert. She sees the bar where they had their one little drink, the door to the backstage area where they dropped off their things, and she sees the stage where they gave that banger of a show. She floats over to the stage, reminiscing about all the amazing shows she had played there with the band. This club is actually where they first met during an open mic night. All four members had signed up separately, and they all lost to some lousy boy band they were sure had bribed two of the three judges. Their shared anger at those judges led them to form the band. The following year, they destroyed the competition and secured a deal with the club owner, giving them the opportunity to perform there once a month for a year. Without that deal, they never would have become as popular as they did. Jade lands on the stage, standing exactly where she used to stand, looking down at the empty room. But as she lands, something feels different. It isn’t the emptiness of the room; she had rehearsed in front of that empty space plenty of times when she was alive. It is something else. But what? She floats around the stage, looking at it from different angles, but still, she can’t pinpoint what it is. She lands again and walks a small distance across the podium. Then she notices it: it didn’t squeak like it used to! Jade takes a closer look at the flooring and realizes it had been totally renovated with new planks. She is shocked. She remembers talking to the club owner about the stage flooring; how much she hated the squeaking and asking him to replace it. But he had refused. Apparently, some famous rock star from the '60s had once performed there. The guy was a living legend to his father and him, and he had attended that concert as his first ever. When he inherited the club, he swore never to replace the planks, in memory of that night. Changing the flooring was out of the question for him. So why is Jade now standing on a renovated podium? The owner hadn’t passed away, she would have seen him at the graveyard. Were the planks damaged in some way? Could it be connected to do with the night she blacked out? Could it have anything to do with Brock’s surprise? What do you think happened the night of the concert?

Jade takes another look around, but her eye is drawn to the open drawer again. Something about it keeps pulling her focus back to it. After careful consideration, Jade decides to investigate further and floats over toward the table against the far wall. She first notices the old pictures of her and the band on top of the table, collecting dust. A wave of nostalgia washes over her. They used to have so much fun together, and everyone looked so happy. There were pictures from nearly every one of their major concerts. They weren't a very renowned band or anything, but the club they played at was one of the most popular around. Still, they always put on a good show and even had a decent group of fans before Jade died and the band disbanded. Thinking back on those days fills Jade’s mind with a burst of creativity, and she grabs her electric guitar. Instantly, she starts playing and humming to herself. In the process, she discovers a few more chords that work well in her unfinished song. Jade is filled with enthusiasm and energy, playing the song from the beginning and adding the new notes, further building out the final solo. She’s just one step closer to finishing what she started. However, her euphoric moment is interrupted again by that drawer in the corner of her eye. Jade moves on from the pictures and music and finally takes a look at the half-opened drawer, one she had never seen opened before. She slides her guitar onto her back, freeing up her hands, grabs the handle, and slowly pulls it open. Inside, she finds something that fills her head with questions. She finds another picture, but this time it’s not of the band—or at least not the entire band. It’s a picture of just her, one she never knew had been taken. At first glance, it looks pretty ordinary: Jade is sitting on the windowsill of the large window in her apartment, nothing too special or unique. She sat there all the time when she was alive, and plenty of people had seen her sitting there, playing her guitar, from outside. However, this picture was somehow taken from inside her apartment. This was very unusual because Jade never played guitar when she had company over. Those jam sessions were private, a way for her to relax—something very personal. That would mean the picture was taken by someone she didn’t know was in her apartment. The thought sends chills through Jade. She’s scared at first, but then she remembers she’s already dead, so there isn’t much to fear. Still, the idea of someone being in her apartment without her knowing and taking pictures of her was undeniably creepy. Even stranger is the fact that this picture was stored here, in a drawer she hadn’t even known she could open. She reasons that it must have been someone from the band. But who? The easy answer would be Brock, it was his garage after all. But it didn’t feel like something he would do, and Jade doubted he could pull off something that sneaky. Maybe another bandmate found the key to the drawer and took the picture? But who, and why? Jade wonders how anyone could’ve gotten into her apartment, but before she can finish the thought, something shiny catches her eye deeper inside the drawer. She reaches for it and pulls out a set of spare keys for her apartment. This blows her mind even further—she didn’t recall giving these to any band member. Did someone steal them? Jade has so many questions. It’s all so confusing. Maybe there’s a simple explanation for it all, or maybe there’s something she’s forgetting—after all, she did forget to finish her last song. Being forgetful was nothing new to her. Still, this whole situation was strange, and that picture... Something about it just didn’t sit right. Jade reminds herself that this isn’t a priority right now. She has a song to finish. She decides to leave the garage for now, putting the keys and picture back in the drawer and shutting it. She floats toward the garage door, takes one last look at the room, and phases through the door. Ironically, her next stop is her old apartment, which isn’t too far away. Jade flies high above the buildings, toward her old place. From a distance, she spots her apartment window, where she used to sit and play by herself. It’s nice seeing one of her favorite spots again, although a bit bittersweet after her discovery in the garage. But Jade doesn’t let that get to her. She reaches the window and phases through it, entering her old apartment, bathed in moonlight. Right away, she recognizes the familiar smell of her old place—she had almost forgotten how nice it was. Jade looks around for a bit. The apartment is mostly cleaned out, except for a couple of old boxes and a few pieces of furniture, ready for someone new to make it their own. She sits down on the windowsill, where she used to strum her guitar endlessly and sing soft songs into the night. Jade likes where she lives now, atop the church with a view of the entire city, but she can’t deny that this place still feels like home. She picks up her guitar to have one last private night session on the windowsill. She starts by playing a few simple notes that work well together, and she softly sings along. But just as she’s getting into the groove, a few things catch her attention: Her old record player is still there, and a record is left on it. She never left records on the player, and her collection seemed to have been moved out already. One of the old boxes looks like it was opened recently, with clear handprints visible in the thin layer of dust on top. A small frame on one of the walls is tilted. Jade remembers that frame—it used to hide a hole in the wall. What should Jade do?

Jade is a ghost girl rock star and the most popular ghost in the graveyard. One night, she’s rocking out for some fellow ghosts in the graveyard next to the church where they are all buried. She’s their main form of entertainment, and every soul there loves her. She finishes up her concert as usual with a banger song about how one of her exes was a scumbag with drinking problems. The audience loves it and begs for an encore. Jade of course obliges and decides to try and surprise her undead fans with something they haven’t yet heard; the last song she wrote when she was alive. She starts strumming her electric guitar, and the crowd goes wild. Jade then starts to sing; I thrive for a dance with danger Her touch sets my soul aflame The way she takes me for a spin I’m lost in the heat of the game Her rhythm keeps pulling me in Every move becoming my new favorite sin Jade continues the song until she reaches the final chorus, planning to finish this concert with the most wicked guitar solo the audience will have ever witnessed. However, she abruptly stops... She doesn’t remember the next note—no, not even the ending of the song. Jade realizes she never got to finish the guitar solo at the end of the song. This bothers her. It’s unlike her to leave a song unfinished, especially one that ends with a crazy guitar solo, those were her specialty! Jade cuts the concert short and tells the ghosts in the audience that she’ll return with the encore later. She floats away toward the peak of the church next to the graveyard, her fans still cheering. Jade sits down with her guitar in her lap, her fingers instinctively finding familiar chords. She plays softly, letting the music flow as she tries to summon the memories of how it all began. It had been more than just a melody to her; it was born from a place of deep passion and pain. She clearly remembered the moment she first started writing it. It was during one of the hardest weeks of her life. She had just broken up with her ex, who had betrayed her trust one too many times, and in the same week, her father had passed away. He had been the one to teach her how to play the guitar, guiding her through each chord and each note, teaching Jade the ropes of what it meant to be a musician. Losing him felt like losing a part of herself. That week was a blur of heartaches, loss, and confusion. Jade had turned to music as a way to cope. It became her refuge, a space where she could pour her grief, her anger, and her vulnerability. Writing the song helped her process the unbearable weight of those blows. She had been so close to succumbing to dangerous temptations back then, the kind that preyed on her when she was at her weakest. Things like drugs and alcohol, but she knew better, her father taught her better. Music, as always, had kept her grounded. The song was a battle between her sorrow and her strength, which she kept very close to her chest, only her closest friends and bandmates knew what this song actually meant to her. Now, as Jade is thinking back, the memories stir something up within her. Maybe, just maybe, revisiting the places where she had worked on the song, the places where she had poured out her soul, could help her finish it this time. She owes it to herself, to her father, to finally complete what she started. The first place that came to mind was Brock's garage, where she and her bandmates used to jam for hours, turning up the volume loud enough to drown out the world. Then there was her old apartment, the quiet refuge where she would sit by the window, guitar in hand, and let the music speak to her. And of course, the club; the place where she felt most alive, where the stage lights and the cheering of the crowd made everything else fade away. Each of these places holds a piece of the song, a memory she needs to revisit. With a determined breath, Jade stands up, ready to trace the steps of her past so that she can finish the song and play the encore for the other ghosts at the graveyard. First things first: the garage. That’s where all the rough work happened anyway, a lot of the groundwork for the song was laid out there while jamming with her bandmates, so surely she could find some inspiration there. Jade leaves the church and graveyard, then flies toward town. She remembers exactly where the garage was. Upon arriving, she phases through the garage door. At first glance, not much had changed, though it looked like no one had been there for a while. The band disbanded after her death, and Brock; the drummer, lost all motivation. Charlie; the bass player, and Dave; who played keys, wanted to keep going, but never found a replacement for Jade. After which they too went their own way. It’s sad now, but Jade is sure they’ll make a comeback, one they’ve all passed too. She sits down on the old couch where she usually sat when she was alive and starts strumming on her guitar again. The nostalgia gets her in a wholesome mood, and she stops playing for a bit to have a look around. Jade hovers in the middle of the garage, taking in the sight. The old place is just as she remembers, yet somehow... different. Dust coats the instruments left behind, and amps are stacked against the wall like forgotten relics. A single beam of moonlight slips through the cracked window, casting long shadows that flicker unnaturally, as if the room itself is breathing. She strums a few chords on her guitar, but the sound seems hollow, almost muted. It felt strange for a space that once vibrated with life. Something doesn’t feel right. Suddenly the energy shifts, almost like she is being watched. She glances around, but the garage was empty. Still, that nagging sensation continues to creep along her spine, pulling her attention to the corner where an old mirror stands, its surface dull and clouded. She hesitates. That mirror hadn’t always been there, had it? Suddenly, a soft creaking noise echoes through the space, as if someone, or something is moving nearby. The air grows heavy, almost thick with tension. If Jade had a pulse, it would quicken right now. She feels an odd pull to investigate further. There are a few things in the room that stand out: The old mirror, covered in a thick layer of dust, which she doesn’t recognize. One of the amps in the corner emitting a faint static, though it was clearly unplugged. The table along the far wall that has lots of pictures of the band, but one drawer is unlocked and slightly open, as if it had been disturbed recently. Which is weird since Brock lost the keys to that table ages ago. What should Jade do?