Having led the rejected bassist out the door, Meisa came back. The poor guy had almost been crying after the verbal beat-down he just took. Meisa had some friendly words for him, but his head was still hanging down when he left.<br/><br/>Coming back into the room, Meisa heard the rest of the talking.<strong>"I can be available whenever I'm needed."</strong>, she said.<strong>"I can quit my current job any time. Where did you open for Dream Theater, James? We might have met before. And Addison, I just got lucky once to be on stage with them, and it was just for one song, so no big deal."</strong>Meisa was already regretting having mentioned that. She didn't want to come over as arrogant.<br/><br/><strong>"As far as the music goes, for me the lyrics define the music. If the song asks for a heavy riff, it should get it. If it asks for a technical lick, it should get it. I don't think we should say that we want to sound like any particular band. Let's just see what we come up with."</strong><br/><br/>She then raises an eyebrow at Desmond.<strong>"A mascot? Come again?"</strong>