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?