<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/74/Siren2.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Aline Myobi -</strong> <em>Looking for Bastiaan...</em></span></div><br/>Alone in the elevator, Aline leaned against the cool metal walls and attempted to relax for a moment. She'd never been one for lazing about but ever since she started working on making Waxing Rhapsodic a success, she'd practically become a workaholic overnight. There just didn't seem to be enough hours in a day and sleep was a necessity that wasted precious time.<br/><br/>Looking back, Aline was lucky. She would have never made it this far herself, at least not intact and completely sane. Bastiaan had been one of the pillars that'd kept her on her feet instead of flailing on her back. Even so, the change she'd undergone was unmistakable. Her "professional face" nearly perfected with the downside of her sometimes forgetting to take it off. Distant.<br/><br/>The elevator dinged and its doors slid open to reveal the entrance of the seventh floor. The hallway's pictures always seemed to change from time to time, save for one. Stepping out, the delicate fluttering of piano keys greeted her along with the velvety strain of a violin. At the end of the hall, a familiar photo stared intently out at her. A soft smile lit her lips as her fingers brushed fondly against the frame. This one never changed, the only photograph in the studio that had its own set spot.<br/><br/>Besides the music playing in the background, all seemed quiet. Navigating past the hallway and office, past the studio and work area, the delicious scent of something wafted through the faux screen from the kitchen. Her stomach squeezed tight at the smell, a reminder that she hadn't eaten yet today. Gently pushing the 'wall' away, she gingerly stepped through and stood stationary for a moment to survey the room. Bastiaan wasn't in sight from what she could see. "Must be in his room then..." The words were soft, spoken to herself. Walking over to the cluster of chairs, she dropped the clipboard on the table and went to peek at what was cooking...