Walter Becker woke up with a shudder. He looked out over the dim New York skyline, obscured partly by a faint shroud of fog. There was something lingering in his mind, some remnant of a dream. He could still hear bits and pieces of it:

"I used to be so alone..."

"Now I'm in the zone..."

What the hell did that mean?

Shaking his head quickly, he looked at his watch. 5 AM. Knowing Don, he was probably in the studio again. Well, he figured, he probably wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again. He got ready quickly, jumped in his car, and drove on over to the studio.

Don looked over his shoulder, at his usual position in front of the soundboard. "Walt!" he said, employing his usual wry, sardonic smile. "You're early. Listen to this! I'm writing this really neat song about my cousin, and - "

"Yeah, yeah, that's cool," Walt yawned.

"Hm. What's up with you?"

Walt scratched the back of his head. "Oh, nothing. I just feel...off, is all. I had a weird dream last night. I can't remember it, though."

"Huh. That's rough. Anyways, do you want to hop on guitar for this track quick? If you're in the mood, of course."

"Yeah, sure," Walt said. Maybe it would help take his mind off his unease.

"Alright, here you go." Don handed him the guitar. The next moment, everything went black.

Walt's eyes fluttered open uneasily. Donald was standing over him, with a wry, sardonic look of worry on his face. "Uh, Walt. Are you...alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. What happened?"

"Well..." Don hesitated. "I handed you the guitar, and all of a sudden you started playing this riff, and singing, and you wouldn't stop no matter what I did. It went on for like a half hour."

"Singing?" The phrases from his dream came back to him again.

"Yeah...it's probably better if I just show you. Here, listen."

They sat as if in a trance. The siren song repeated over and over and over…

“John cone, the only friend I’ve ever known

I used to be so alone, but now I’m in the zone

John Cone…”

They sat, awed, in silence.

“Walt…” Don began.

“I know, I know. This is weird, and unacceptable. I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened…”

“No! Walt, don’t you see? This is the perfect track for Aja 2! That repetition…that hook! Now we just need to get Dave to record some more vocals and we’ll be in business!”

Walt smiled. Although he still wasn’t sure what happened, it was a whole lot easier to deal with with a good friend by his side.