Melody stared at the little pile of crumbs she'd gathered with the broom. Roni was off chatting up the only three customers in the bar, a couple and their young son. Tourists, apparently. They'd come to Seattle to see where Nirvana had come from and spent the day walking around. The boy was munching on french fries. Melody watched him, a small smile on her face. He looked so content, sitting there with hands covered in salt and pepper, a ketchup stain on his face.

Roni mirrored their smiles. Melody knew it was fake; Roni was a bartender. If she wanted to, she could play any part. There was no reason to burden these out-of-towners with their story of woe. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already nearly three. Only eight hours until Victoria Belfrey owned the soul of Hyperion Heights.

She turned back to her sweeping. Laughter exploded from the group, but she ignored it. She had work to do. There weren't many patrons these days but if she wanted to get on with her guitar playing she needed to finish her cleaning.

When she had at last finished the dishes, she came out front to find Roni standing silent, alone behind the bar. No smile was on her face anymore. Just anger, and defeat. Melody knew, because she knew that look. She saw it in her face every morning.

"Almost happy hour," Melody commented. She moved to stand by the edge of the bar, running a still damp hand through her hair. It caught on her fingers. She sighed.

Roni snorted. She shook her head, a tiny bitter smile forming. She turned to Melody. "Happy Hour?" She tilted her head a bit, looking closer. "You okay, kid? You've been off this week."

"Don't turn your bartender magic on me," Melody said. But she couldn't help a tiny smile as Roni pulled out a shot glass and started filling it with whiskey. "So you mean, am I okay despite the obvious fact I'm losing my job again, twice in two months?"

"Nightmares again?" Roni asked.

She let out a long, silent breath. Then she nodded. "Yeah. I went down to the water last night, hoping it would give me a reset." In a single gulp, she downed the shot. "It didn't help."

"I thought the water always helps?"

Melody laughed. "So did I." A long pause stretched with just the sound of Roni refilling Melody's glass. She sighed. "You sure about selling the bar?"

Roni just scoffed. She shook her head, slamming the bottle back in its spot. A stupid question. "Not much else to do."

Before either could continue, the bell for the front door jingled. They both turned. Melody's eyes widened a bit in surprise. She'd never seen her Swyft driver before in her life and yet in less than 24 hours he was back around.

"Uh, excuse me, is this Roni's?" His messenger bag was draped over his grey sweatshirt, hand grabbing the strap as he looked around in confusion.

Roni just shot Melody a look of amusement before turning back to him. "I sure hope so. Or else I put the wrong sign out front. I'm Roni."

"Nice to meet you." He sounded hesitant still, but moved up to the bar. As he slid into a seat, he glanced at Melody. "Wait, didn't I pick you up last night?"

"That's me. Melody Black." She moved to join Roni behind the bar. Not that a single customer would offer a challenge, but it made her feel better, to seem useful. "Henry, right?"

"Yeah. Henry Mills."

"Well, what can we get ya? It's your lucky day, kid. Whole bar's half off till midnight." Roni turned into a bartender without a second thought.

"Midnight? Then what, place turns into a pumpkin?"

Melody couldn't help but scoff. She left Roni to explain their situation. Roni would be signing over the bar to Belfrey that night, before close. The woman was set to come in after dinner with all the paperwork.

Busying herself with arranging and rearranging tables, chairs, and baskets of pretzels, she tried to put it behind her. She tried to think about what losing her job could mean for her. New opportunities, maybe. Maybe she could finally get around to revising all her poetry. Maybe she could take a vacation, splurge a little and spend some time in the mountains of Colorado like she'd been wanting. It could be good.

She ran a finger over the scuff marks on the table she was cleaning. Scratches and dents left by livelier days, days before Belfrey had started splitting up the neighborhood and driving the people of Hyperion Heights out. Melody didn't want to lose her home, not again. She'd already lost one to grief and fear. She didn't want to lose this one, too.

"Melody's a writer, too."

At her name, she glanced back up. Roni smirked. She knew how much Melody hated talking about her writing. It was too personal. Too much of a look at her darkness. But Roni had been trying for nearly a year, even before she'd employed her, to try for publication.

"Really?" Henry turned to her in surprise. "What do you write?"

Melody shrugged. "It's nothing. Poetry, mostly."

"She's just being modest. She's always writing," Roni argued. "Henry said he's an author."

Melody looked at him closer. The name Henry Mills had sounded familiar. But she couldn't place it. "Oh?"

"Yeah, uh, I wrote this one book. It's not that good," he said. Henry swiveled in his chair away, as if to change the topic, but then he turned back. "It was self published."

"That doesn't mean it's not good," Melody argued. She leaned on the counter. "What's it called?"

"Once Upon a Time."

Melody grinned. Henry Mills! She did know that book. "I know that one! I read an ARC copy. It was great! Don't sell yourself short." She grabbed the drink Roni offered her, again. "So, you writing a sequel? It ended on a bit of a cliffhanger."

He sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. If I can find some inspiration for it."

Inspiration. Melody knew how hard that could be to come by. With her sorority sisters, she'd always been inspired, and worked to inspire them. Having a team could do that. But here in the Heights she'd not had the courage to let anyone read a single poem.

"Yeah, I know what that's like," she muttered.

Roni plopped a basket of pretzels down in front of them. "Sounds like you two could help each other. Give yourselves some inspiration."

With a laugh, Melody just shook her head. "Roni, I'm going to be too busy finding another job to start up a writing group."

With the reminder of Victoria Belfrey's impending attack, they all went quiet. Roni's frown deepened, and she refilled a shot glass for herself. Henry just sipped at his coffee.

"I'm taking 15, Roni," Melody said.

The woman just waved her off, so Melody stripped off her name tag and headed into the backroom. She sighed. Her purse sat on the table. Rummaging around, she pulled out her journal and flipped through. So many snippets of poetry and prose littered the pages, scraps since abandoned.

With her earbuds in, she grabbed her phone and journal and went back into the main bar. The seat by the fireplace was always her favorite. As Henry nursed his coffee, she sat listening to Florence + The Machine.

A flash of dark hair drew her attention away from her boat sketch only a few minutes later. She saw the familiar form of Jacinda rush in, laptop in her hands. She had the perpetual frown on her face, an all too common part of life in Hyperion Heights.

"Oh, hey Jacinda." Roni offered her a smile. "How's it going?"

"Great. Lucy's stealing computers now so... that's new." She came to stand by the bar, beside Henry Mills who looked at her wide-eyed.

"Never a dull moment with that kid," said Roni.

Jacinda let out a small huff of air. She turned to Henry. "Speaking of my little felon. You must be Henry. I'm so sorry about all this. I don't know what's gotten into her, but I promise you, it won't happen again."

From her spot by the fireplace, Melody just smirked. Henry looked smitten, watching her with his eyes wide and tripping over his words. Leaving them to their conversation, she popped her earbuds back in. Roni set two glasses of alcohol in front of them with a wide grin before moving away as well. Melody just returned to her sketch.

Her pencil flew across the lined page, forming masts and a ship's hull. She liked to play with the shapes of the ship, the way she could try and make it come alive on the page. Melody had been on the ocean a few times, back when she'd studied abroad in Greece, and though the Puget Sound basin wasn't nearly as picturesque, at least not in the same way as the Mediterranean, she almost preferred the dark blues of the Pacific. There she could imagine all sorts of things, stories that maybe she could turn into verse.

She'd just taken her earbuds out to get ready to go back on shift when the doorbell jingled again. She looked up. To her surprise and disgust, Victoria Belfrey paraded in, heels clicking on the wood floor. That woman wasn't supposed to show her face for hours.

Roni looked about as pleased as Melody felt. "The bar's yours at midnight, Victoria. Take a hike till then."

Victoria just glared, her highlighted dark hair framing her face perfectly as she continued on in. "Happy to, as soon as Jacinda tells me what the hell is going on. Lucy is sneaking out of your house in the middle of the night to meet up with some strange man?"

Melody's eyes widened. So that was how Lucy had gotten the laptop. It must've been her fairytale obsession. The girl was always going on about Once Upon a Time. Even though Melody didn't spend much time with them, she knew enough to guess that was why she'd sought out Henry Mills.

She sighed. She didn't want to sit and listen to Victoria Belfrey chew out her stepdaughter. Getting up from her seat, she crossed the bar to get to the back, leaving Belfrey behind making snide comments about Jacinda's day-drinking and irresponsibility. As she tucked her phone and journal away, she couldn't help but frown about it. Jacinda was one of the hardest working people she'd ever met. The woman was far from irresponsible.

By the time she worked her way out into the main room, only Roni remained. The woman looked murderous. Her knuckles were white from the grip on her glass.

"Uh oh," Melody said. She offered Roni a small smile. "I know that look."

Roni glanced over at her. With a quick movement, she drowned her entire shot glass. Then she slammed back on the bar. "I don't want that bitch taking my bar."

"That makes two of us."

Melody slipped into a bar stool. She made little circles on the concrete bar top with her finger, trying to distract herself from Roni's brewing anger. They had hours left, hours to stew and regret and boil with anger before Victoria Belfrey owned their livelihoods.

"Let's talk about you though," Roni said.

The forced sweetness of her tone made Melody look up. Roni's gaze was trained on her, a small little smile on her face. She knew that look. That was pity. Roni was the only person in Seattle who knew about what had brought Melody to the city. Long before she'd ever been offered a job at the bar, she and Roni had chatted over drinks as Melody had tried to drown the memories. They were vivid, both the memories and the nightmares. Alcohol helped, but sometimes a confidant did more than the bottle.

"What about me," she muttered.

Roni scoffed. "Should I make you your favorite?" The woman didn't even wait for a response before she'd mixed up a Rum and Coke. "There. Now talk."

They were alone in the bar. The silence hurt more than any long, busy shift could. It was existing in the stillness before a hurricane. Doom was coming. Melody could feel it. She had a sixth sense for those kinds of things. She'd warned her sisters not to drive that night, and they'd been killed by a drunk driver. She'd warned her mother to go get her colon checked, and she'd died from cancer.

"I keep hearing their screams," she finally admitted. The cold drink soothed her nerves a bit as took a large gulp. When it rested back on the bar, she looked up at Roni again. "Not literally, but... when I'm sleeping."

"How many years has it been?" Roni asked.

Melody sighed. Too many. "A little over five years."

"Have you reached out to the rest of them?"

The rest of them. Melody frowned, looking into Roni's brown eyes for a moment before turning away. She pushed her long hair behind her ear, getting it out of her face as a few unbidden tears stained her cheeks. She meant the rest of her family. There had been nine of them total in their family line: Melody, Polly, Erin, Tara, Talia, Urselina, Eugenia, Melanie, and Cleo. Sisters in Greek Life, devoted to service through music. Now, instead of nine, there were six.

"No," Melody admitted. She hadn't spoken to them since the funerals. "I can't."

"Why not?"

Melody scoffed. She took another drink. "You already know why, Roni."

"No, I know why you won't. Not why you can't. You blame yourself for something you had zero control over, Melody," she said. "You weren't there. You couldn't stop them from getting in that car. That was their choice."

"That's precisely why I can't reach out," she snapped. "If I had been there-"

But Roni cut her off. "If you had been there, you'd have died too."

Maybe. She probably would've gotten in that car with them, despite it being three in the morning. She'd told them to go home earlier that night. She'd told them not to be out so late. But they hadn't listened. After all, they'd told her what she knew was true. If she'd been able to be there that night, she'd have stayed out with them.

"Call them."

She looked up at Roni again. Her smile had faded. She meant business, using the tone of voice Roni often reserved for unruly customers.

"Maybe."

They fell into silence.

It took another hour for a customer to walk through the doors again. Their luck really had tanked since Belfrey had stepped up her game, buying places faster than the blink of an eye. With a customer, that meant no more drinking on the job.

Roni suggested she bring out the guitar. Maybe the music would do some good, cheer them up or bring in more customers. Melody certainly thought that to be a better plan than drinking away her sadness while on the clock.

She unpacked her acoustic guitar in the backroom. Running her hand over the dark wood, she took several deep breaths. The strings no longer hurt her callused fingers but she remembered the early days of playing. Those memories didn't leave either, just like the grief-stricken ones.

Songs used to come easy to her. She remembered nights on the Great Lawn, sprawled out with her family in a circle. Eugenia liked to bring out her ocarina. Melody used her guitar. Polly would sometimes sing. Together they would have impromptu jam sessions, poetry recitations, Urselina would even bring her telescope sometimes. She missed college. She missed those days where she could spend evenings on a green lawn surrounded by women her age with their biggest cares being over their capstones or next big paper.

Songs didn't come to her easily, not anymore. She didn't compose. She preferred cover songs. That was easier, somehow. She could focus on the words already written, not those stuck inside herself.

Melody set up by the fireplace. She used her phone app to tune, letting each string ring out through the quiet bar. Closing her eyes, she focused on the music. She let it inspire her. Starting with one of her favorite tracks from Amber Run, she sank into the chords.

Night fell. The customer had left, another coming in and then disappearing into the darkness like the previous. Roni cleaned glasses, both women listening to the music that Melody crafted. Harmonies and dissonance, chord after chord. Melody closed her eyes, thinking about the ocean, about the way the waters tossed endlessly. She tried to remember what it was like to love without pain. Tears streamed down her face, but she kept going. She kept playing, singing, existing in the beauty of the music.

The door opened. Melody opened her eyes, glancing up from the fireplace to see Victoria Belfrey stalking through their bar like a predator chasing her prey. She stopped the music. The woman barely spared her a glance, but Melody watched her. She watched as Belfrey smiled. She watched as Belfrey placed the packet of papers on the bar. She watched as Roni drew herself and rounded the bar, movements slow and deliberate.

They exchanged few words. All three women knew why Belfrey was there. They didn't need to mince words. Roni was signing away the last bastion of hope from the old Hyperion Heights. The gathering place, where all members of the community used to frequent. Now it was empty, and soon it would be gone.

Roni clicked her pen open. She flicked it up and down for a moment, looking down at the contract. A long pause extended. Finally, she spoke up. "Nah. I don't think I'm gonna give you my bar today."

Both Melody and Belfrey looked at her in shock. Melody couldn't breathe. What was she saying?

Belfrey leaned closer. "What? We had a deal."

Roni nodded. "Yeah, well, that was yesterday."

"And what happened today?"

"Your step-daughter... She inspired me."

"By running away?"

Melody couldn't help the grin slowly spreading on her face. She covered her mouth, hoping Belfrey wouldn't notice. She didn't have a death wish. But as Roni started putting on that voice she knew to be fruitless to counter, she couldn't help the grin.

"By not giving in to you," Roni said. "You're so used to pushing people around, I think it's time you felt what it's like when someone pushes back."

"You can't win."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Roni just stared her down. She wouldn't back off this. "Today... I watched you march into my bar acting like you owned the place. And you know what? I didn't like it. And I realized if I sign this piece of paper you will own this place. And that I really don't like."

Melody wanted to get up. She wanted to go stand next to Roni as she dressed down Victoria Belfrey with her words and power. But she couldn't. She didn't want to paint a target on her back, not yet at least. Though she had to admit, as Roni continued to give her speech, that it was certainly inspiring.

"This is my bar. It's my home. It's my life. Sure, it's seen better days, but that doesn't mean it won't have better days again. And just because life isn't what you want it to be right now, doesn't mean you should tear it down." She took a deep breath, looking around the bar. Then she turned to Melody for a moment. "I started thinking about all the things I want to do and have that I'm not doing or having."

Melody thought of her sisters as Roni turned back to Belfrey. Roni liked to talk about how inspiring her music was. But Melody couldn't even be brave enough to reach out to the girls who had meant everything to her for four years, the girls who had cultivated that gift in her.

"Everyone in this neighborhood seems to have given up imagining what a better life might look like. But if we can admit to ourselves what we want is out there somewhere then maybe we can fight for it. And if we do that, then we're halfway to getting it." She smiled. Leaning into Belfrey, Roni let her teeth show in happy defiance. "That's the thing about the people of this town. Things can seem... hopeless. When suddenly, someone gives the rest of us inspiration."

Again, she glanced at Melody. Belfrey followed her gaze, and Melody forced herself to sit straighter, gripping the guitar to her chest. Inspiration. She used to know what that was. She used to cultivate it in her friends and family. Maybe it was time to do that again.

"Because the first step to a new beginning is imagining that one is even possible." Roni walked around the bar, going behind it to stand with her drinks. She pointed at Belfrey, the woman's full attention on her again. "And I'll be damned if I stand by and let a bully like you take that away from us anymore. Now if you'll excuse me."

Belfrey stepped back from the bar, drawing herself up to full height, The bite in her voice only grew with each word. "You'll regret this, Roni."

Roni laughed. "Uh, doubtful. Regret's not really my thing."

The other woman glared at her, then turned to Melody. She forced a smile on her face for Belfrey. With a last angry glare at Roni, she turned away and stalked out the door.

Melody picked at the strings of her guitar again. Her smile grew until it was a massive grin, something she couldn't contain. What a queen. Roni certainly knew how to give a speech when she needed to.

"Take that, bitch," Roni said, laughing as she downed another shot.

Melody broke into laughter. "That was amazing, Roni."

"There's something just so fun about screwing up that woman's plans." Roni laughed, leaving the bar and walking over, drink in one hand and in the other, a double chocolate donut on a napkin. "Here, this was yours."

The chime on the door jingled again. Both women looked over to find Officer Rogers and Detective Weaver walk in, chatting. Roni grinned and walked back to the bar.

"I'm surprised you're still open, Roni," Weaver said. "Isn't Belfrey buying this place today?"

"Not anymore," Melody said. She couldn't help it, still high off inspiration and bitter excitement over Roni's speech.

Weaver looked over at her. "You doing performances in here now, Melody?"

She looked down at the guitar. With a smile and shrug, she just moved over the bar. She wasn't sure she could call Weaver a friend, but she had a respect for him, for the way he wasn't afraid to socialize with the street rats and underdogs. He even slipped her money on a weekly basis, just asking that she kept an ear and an eye open during her street performances for any questionable people and things.

Roni just laughed, pouring Weaver a drink. "Figured it could pass the time." Then she looked at Rogers. "What's the occasion? You're not in here that often these days, Rogers."

"Meet my new assistant," Weaver said. "Detective Rogers, you know Roni, everyone does. Have you met Melody?"

He looked over at her. "You used to work at the coffee shop on the corner, right?"

"Guilty," she said. Melody looked at him. She remembered him, vaguely. They'd never formally met, she'd just handed him his drink every morning and offered a small smile. He'd always looked a bit sad. "Melody Black."

"Pleasure." He offered her a forced smile.

It was easy to tell the difference between a forced smile and a genuine one. There was pain behind those blue eyes of his, just like the pain she saw in the mirror every morning.

Roni and Weaver had moved to the other end of the bar, Roni regaling him about Belfrey and the look on her face when she'd rejected the contract. Melody couldn't remember the last time Roni had been so happy. It was a gift.

"You play?" Rogers asked.

Melody turned back to him. He was looking over her shoulder, pointing at the guitar she'd left on the fireplace. She nodded. "A bit."

"Weaver said you're a busker?" He took a small sip of the beer that Roni had placed on the bar for him.

"Yeah, I do alright." She also took a drink. "I play around the city. Sometimes down by the water, sometimes by the Troll or the Graffiti Wall. Sometimes the gardens."

Rogers nodded. He ran his thumb over the neck of the bottle in his hand, chewing at his cheek. Melody knew that look. A lot of his mannerisms she saw in herself. She thought back to Roni's speech. Inspiration. They needed inspiration, not hopelessness. So she decided to fall back on what she used to do, in the old days.

"Roni said you hadn't been in here in a while. Why not?" She sipped at her drink, leaning on the bar. "Too busy?"

He shook his head. "No. Just tired."

"That's familiar." She looked at him closer. Dark circles were under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in ages. At least not well. She knew the feeling. "Something's wrong."

He just looked at her, flashing her a small but genuine smile. Then he shook his head. "It's the Heights. Plenty's wrong."

Melody laughed. "Fair enough. But something's on your mind in particular."

"Oh you know that?" he asked, smile widening.

"I know these things. I bartend sometimes, it comes with the job," she said. Melody couldn't help mirroring his smile. "Bartenders are like therapists."

He huffed, shaking his head. After a moment of quiet, he looked back at her. "Turning over the Vidrio girl to Belfrey," he paused for a moment, "didn't feel like the best form."

"Oh, that was you." They'd seen Jacinda briefly, as she'd come by for a quick bite to eat on her way back to get her job from Louis in the chicken shop. Melody's face fell. She looked closer at him. "I'm sure you made the most of the situation. Not much else you could've done."

Rogers nodded. "Guess not." He took another drink.

"Got a favorite song?" He glanced up at her in confusion. She just chuckled. "If I know it, I can play it. Might cheer you up. Besides," Melody said, smiling, "I'm gonna try to milk this space as a music venue for as long as I can."

Rogers laughed with her, but shook his head. "Can't think of one. You choose."

"That's a lot of power you're giving me," she said. But Melody just grinned, downing the last bit of her drink and leaving it on the bar to return to the fireplace. She picked the guitar up and started strumming it absentmindedly.

He followed her over. As she started up her song, the conversation between Weaver and Roni ending, he watched. Melody plucked away. The room silenced except for her music and humming. Inspiration. What would be inspiring?

She broke out into a grin. "How about a little Disney."

The notes of You've Got a Friend in Me filled the room. She let the guitar stand for itself for a bit. It filled the bar, measure after measure. Finally, with a grin, she added her voice.

Inspiration.