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GM May 28th, Sunday, 2017, 5.51PM Maniac Park, Downtown Bedlam, Wisconsin The last set... It was finally here. The last step on a journey across America. The last song that would put an unquiet soul to rest. Val had met the shade named Jane Westerling months back, on a tour through LA. A cover of Michael Jackson's hit 'Billie Jean' had been interrupted by the lights shorting out, a spectral wail and the appearance of a translucent floating figure with every limb out of joint, her head twisted around and her enormous eyes on the back of her head. Thankfully, Jane had just been trying to cheer and her powers had gotten out of hand. After making her earnest apologies and providing her own illumination of shimmering ghostlight, she'd dropped backstage after the show to gush and make a very odd request. "The music makes me whole, Ms. Cain. If I could hear more like it...I could remember myself. Where I can rest. Will you carry me there?" All had become clear as the weeks went by, Val sharing her body with the bubbly, now-healed ghost. No longer monstrous, the music of her long-gone teenage years had formed her back into a flickering, tiny brunette with a small, catlike mouth and large green eyes. She couldn't go far from Val, not that she wanted to. After so long alone it had been a relief to meet someone who could talk to and see her all the time again. Most of the time, she stayed in Val's head and made occasional small talk or went on stream-of-consciousness rambles about this or that, occasionally hitting on a common interest. She had been a music fanatic as a kid growing in Woolverton back in 1983 and when she'd turned 15 in '84 had struck out into the world in a stolen Chevy, following the Star Gods, the greatest musicians of her time. Four years, many life lessons and one lost finger later, she'd finally come home. Then something had happened, she had died been shattered into pieces. A part of her in every place she'd heard the songs she'd loved so much. Right then, Val could feel Jane jittering with excitement as the first chords were struck. The crowd of tired-looking Bedlamites that had gathered in the sprawling, ill-kept park weren't nearly so enthusiastic, but they'd at least made signs. Val could see the less flattering ones at the back torn down, their holders the target of a perfunctory scrap. Everyone not involved kept their eyes front and ignored the shouts and curses drifting in the air. The people in suits around the stage weren't so relaxed. Valerie Cain's security detail were used to rough towns, but they'd been on edge since arriving in Bedlam, Wisconsin, almost paranoid thanks to the rundown city's enormous crime rate. But that couldn't stop the music or dampen the spirits of 'Sweet Child of Mine'