" The music owns me,” he repeated, feeling dumb. “I am the music. I close my eyes and… I am that chord, or that moment, or that dance. I am….” The crowd, the guitar, the mood, the lyrics, the heartbeats, the drumbeats, the guitar chords, the sweat, the muscle, the movement, the song. “You can’t fall when you’re there,” he said and swallowed hard. "

― Amy Lane , Beneath the Stain (Beneath the Stain, #1)