Trixy's Pov
The buzz of chatter and giggles hung in the air of our cozy resto-bar. A light tune of music had filled the room earlier. We sat, our stuff spread out—guitars leaned on chairs, drumsticks on the table, microphones tangled in their own cords on the floor. The air held hints of drinks, hot food, and stage smoke, mixing into the wood and dim lights that bathed the bar in a soft gold glow.
We had just wrapped up our gig since tomorrow none of us would have the will or time. Tomorrow was Austen University's Grand Ball—a big talk most everywhere, from the halls and dorms right to our own group.
"Got your invites?" asked Sydnee, packing up a stand.
"Got mine," said Erlyn, bright as she packed away her violin.
Sydnee turned to Luna. "You?"
With a big smile, Luna flicked her hair. "Yes. My gown's ready. Aunt Zyra got me a friend in Paris to make it."
Of course, I thought with a small laugh. Luna always did shine bright.
