Escapade eventually begins to fill up, if largely with underaged students posing as adults and the odd alcoholic on the balcony.  The DJ spins for a while as Mimiru and the other musicians work out a set list with the club's owner--he wants dance tracks, of course--and set up the limited stage space for performance.  The transition, when it happens, is almost subtle compared to the constant near seizure-inducing play of flashing lights and the dull throb of the club's overly enthusiastic bass.<br/><br/>Mimiru tries to clear her head of what happened last night and the weird but brief meeting with the dorm's RA earlier in the night and focus on the music.  Despite it being the thing to do for young Japanese musicians--especially females--she's not really much of a dancer, so her options for songs come up pretty limited: she needs something with vocals she can do, that also has a lead guitar so she has an excuse not to dance, but still has a beat the club can dance to.  Not exactly her normal choice in music.<br/><br/>At least she fakes it well.  Well enough she looks like she might<em>not</em>be faking it, actually; the way she bobs and swings her guitar with the rhythm and leans into the mic on the chorus, it's easy to wonder if maybe she doesn't enjoy the club music more than she lets on:<br/><br/><em>What a shame we all became,<br/>Such fragile, broken things<br/>A memory remains,<br/>Just a tiny spark<br/><br/>I give it all my oxygen,<br/>So let the flames begin<br/>So let the flames begin<br/>Oh glory...<br/><br/>This is how we'll dance when,<br/>When they try and take us down<br/>This is what will be, oh glory<br/><br/>Somewhere weakness is our strength,<br/>And I'll die searching for it<br/>I can't let myself regret,<br/>Such selfishness<br/><br/>My pain and all the trouble caused,<br/>No matter how long<br/>I believe that there's hope,<br/>Hiding beneath it all, and--<br/><br/>Buried beneath it all, and--<br/>Growing beneath it all, and--<br/><br/>This is how we'll dance when,<br/>When they try and take us down<br/>This is how we'll sing, and this is--<br/><br/>This is how we'll stand when,<br/>When they burn our houses down<br/>This is what will be, oh glory!</em><br/><br/>There's a bit of sweat on her brow by the end of the song.  Afterward, she seems almost grateful to let the male guitarist step up and take a shot at singing and dancing while she just sits back on the guitar, scanning the audience for anyone of interest.  The crowd looks pretty normal for this part of the week, unfortunately; new faces and bigger crowds would at least be a sign that they were generating some curiosity around the area.<br/><br/>There's something else she's looking for, but she can't quite put her finger on it.  A nagging little doubt making her scan the rafters and watch the door, for what she doesn't know...