I keep asking myself that, even now. A few weeks ago, my biggest problem was whether I'd mess up a bass line in front of a crowd.

 Whether our band would ever play outside tiny cafés. Whether my parents would find another reason to tell me music wasn't a future. That was it. 

We just wanted to play music. We wanted late-night rehearsals, cheap coffee, ringing ears after concerts, and the feeling that for a few hours the world made sense. We just wanted to be happy.

The sea started whispering secrets no one should know. And an old sailor sat across from me beneath a moonlit sky, telling me things that sounded impossible. The blue book rested between us. I remember staring at it and wishing I could go back in time. Back before the concert. Back before the song. The sailor watched me for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Mira, before anything else, I need you to truly understand who I am..."