It's not so easy moving on. It's harder to forget. It's all about the whole notion of having a heart broken right before you know whats coming then being left in silence. Sometimes I dream that I'm constantly kept in that final moment when I saw him last. When I was holding him in the empty hotel room and staring out at the stars and telling him everything would be alright. How was I supposed to know that maybe even that wasn't good enough? Maybe instead what I should have been telling him was that I was sorry. Sorry for whatever I had done that made him leave

A hand was shoving through the citrine strands that left her as her namesake of Canary. The name of Charley Cadence had long since been abandoned since she had joined the Underground and it's unity with the Crimson Scarf. The girl had a few more bruises these days, a few more broken pieces of her heart scattered on her sleeve but the little ingenue had given up the gems and jewels for a life of concrete and sorrows.

Still even in those dim lights she could shine, perched on a stool on the tender's side of the bar and watching the new act perform even as she ran a cool glass of ice across her brow to temper out the heat of a brand new shiner.

After the unexpected and unplanned goodbye that left her in an empty room and on her own again, Charley had done nothing more then decide to change herself. She left the name behind and became what she assumed she was always meant to be. The Concrete Canary.

She had abandoned the old days and ways of a jeweler and ended up tending bar at the fetish club and adding on another job requirement of being the wound patcher as much as the punching bag. It really depended on the day, but it was a day and that was all she could ask for.

Still there were the nights like these where she couldn't forget the past and her thoughts were drifting back to a hotel room that once wasn't so empty and a time where she didn't wear the tattooed pieces of a shattered heart on her sleeve.

It was nights like these where she stayed up as long as she could if only to keep herself from sleeping... in order to keep herself from dreams.

Charley knew well that in these nights her nights would be colored in nothing more then images of him and it broke her heart all over again.

She missed him, her night born Drifter. Nothing more then the highway man always taking his journey over and on her canary heart.