She was surrounded by nothing but stars. Thousands and thousands of stars pin pricked the dark sky. She relaxed her focus and tried to find the constellations, but the patterns eluded her. She took a deep breath and tried to just enjoy the scene instead. She reached her fingers out and stroked the soft grass, but when she turned her head to look at them, she only saw more stars. She tried to lift her hand up, but it was too heavy. She felt panic beginning to climb inside of her.

Stay calm she thought to her self. The stars won't hurt me.

The panic continued it's slow crawl.

She tried to ignore it. She looked for the shadows instead, but there were none.

The panic halted and started scratching at her back.

No, that's not panic. She bent her arm around and tried to reach at the scratching, but felt nothing.

It burrowed deeper.

She tried to sit upright.

She couldn't.

Ian will help me she thought hazily. He has to be looking for me already.

She opened her mouth to call out for him when the scratching became a stab, sucking the air from her lungs. Everything went black.

***

She knew she needed to be focusing on her upcoming meeting with Eric, but the sense of helplessness that captured her in her last dream still haunted her.

Never before had I needed anyone. Called out for someone.

You're weak. But more worryingly, you're going to get him hurt.

Ian insisted on picking her up, which confused her until she heard his babbling in the car. His mind was jumping around, telling her about previous performances, practices, and lyric ideas he wanted to run by Eric. It finally dawned on her.

Stolen story; please report.

"You're nervous about me meeting Eric. Or about me attending practice? Both?"

"I wouldn't call it nervous...Just exciting. I've got to see you in your element, now it's time to see you in mine," he said with a shy smile.

"I literally saw you guys in concert. Is watching how the sausage gets made that thrilling?" She teased.

The jab had the desired effect and he continued to babble about the song writing process, the flow of a well-practiced band, and the spark that only a dingy garage can kindle. It felt safer to listen than trying to talk. Ian didn't need the know about this latest dream.

As they pulled up to the house, Violet saw that Trevor, Louis, and Eric were already set up in the garage. She was surprised to see Eric decked out as much as he had been at the concert. It seeming to be a lot more effort than a practice session required.

As they approached, Eric seemed to study her. Violet tried to be nonchalant in her observance of the black blob that rippled on the concrete behind him. She was curious and trepadatious at the same time - it certainly didn't have the same energy as the thing she felt in her dream.

"Welcome back dude. This is Violet!" Ian said cheerfully.

Eric smirked. "You seem familiar..."

"I was front row at the last show."

Eric gave Ian a look as if he was impressed. "I wasn't totally sure if I should have believed Trevor's account, but I guess I owe him a beer." He grabbed his guitar and slung the strap over his torso. "But later. Vegas sucked so I have a bunch of 'meh' material we need to get through and separate the wheat from the chaf." He eyed Ian's empty hands, "You gonna just play air guitar bud?"

Ian threw up his hands. "Just making plesentries, I'm getting my shit now. We missed you bud." Violet followed Ian back to the car and helped him grab is gear.

"Don't mind that," Iam mumbled. "His brother is a bit of an ass about the band, so he's always a bit extra when he gets back. Once we get a few songs in he'll chill out and have a real conversation."

Except he didn't. He did stop and chat, but mostly about the task at hand. Violet tried to politely ask him about his family, but he gave mostly snide remarks about them. The blob would pulse and wave in response, but shrink when he started singing. A few hours in, Eric showed no signs of stopping, so Violet ordered a pizza. That caused Eric to brighten up considerably, and the blob to recede to more of a small puddle.

She kept catching Ian watching her. She could see his curiosity burning in his eyes, but she didn't have much to tell him, so she'd shrug or smile to assure him there was nothing serious present at the time.

Violet kept trying to talk to Eric, but anything she'd mention would prompt a, "That reminds me, let me talk to Trevor real quick," or "Oh shit, gotta grab Ian."

She toyed with the idea of just walking home and letting the guys have some space, but the blob still made her nervous. She decided to curl up on the couch instead and read some articles for Modern Religion on her phone. Maybe I'll get lucky. At the very least, I'll stop making Eric so on edge.