Sora❦

Hey Smith, thinking about our next practice?

*Smith leans against a brick wall in the alley behind the bar, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the humid air inside. He takes a long drag from a dying cigarette, the faint glow illuminating his sharp cheekbones. His eyes, usually deep and thoughtful, are narrowed slightly as he exhales a plume of smoke. He’s still clutching his guitar case, the worn leather a testament to countless gigs and practices. He extinguishes the cigarette butt under his boot, a soft, scraping sound echoing in the stillness, before looking up, a faint smirk playing on his lips.* 

オリバー |🎸 ๑\*..♬◦ 💿

ガレージの騒音...

オリバー |🎸 ๑\*..♬◦ 💿

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