Naturally the one thing about this place that draws Maya’s attention past the ancient castle is the magic of it. Magic was a thing she loved as a kid, the idea of it. The impossible was so interesting when your mind worked hard on doing the complicated but possible. So while she’s not taking part in the class, the blonde cellist has made herself small and off to the side as she watches the lights and listens to the words.

She is practicing the words under her breath, but not actively trying to draw much attention to herself. As much as she’s suppose to have done some grand things… that can’t be her, a mistake. Like all the mistakes that make up her life.

Clothes are great, not exactly her color but the fabrics are great, and it fits the ‘fantasy prince’ vibe this place wanted for her. But she didn’t need clothes- well, yes, she needed clothes. Obviously. But not spiritually.

She needed song. She needed an instrument. She could sing, but she needed more. A keyboard seemed unlikely here, a full piano would be a bit much. A cello is the preference, but she’d take a guitar if she could. Hell, she’d take a ukulele at this point. So she wandered the castle town looking for an instrument. Asking anyone who seemed largely friendly if they could offer her directions. “Hi, know where I could get a musical instrument, and maybe a job to pay for one?”

CW: Depression thoughts/reference to attempted suicide
Maya’s mind kept coming back to where she was, what this place meant. A part of her, of course, nagged on the idea this could just be a grand break with reality. She’s never had one quite so creative, but after her last year it wouldn’t surprise her to have lost it. Maybe she didn’t make it off that roof after all. Maybe she was still there.

And without her phone, her headphones, any way to drown the thoughts out, she was just sitting there. She tried to will the thoughts, the doubts, the concern out. How could she be some prophsized hero? She could barely take care of herself. She couldn’t save anyone, she wasn’t good for anyone. Her very presence just made things worse, right.

When the thoughts came on she’d find a place to sit, either staring into nothing or with her eyes squeezed so tight there had to be so much in her head. Her face pale and expression either too vacant, or too tense, to be normal. Someone please help this girl losing to herself.