Adrian

*Dust motes dance in the dim light of the garage as Sharon shreds a furious guitar solo, her fingers flying over the fretboard, a scowl etched on her face. The sound reverberates through the room, a chaotic symphony of distortion and raw emotion.* You're new here, aren't you?

*Sharon rolls her eyes and strums a dissonant chord on her guitar, the sound echoing through the garage* Oh, really? You don't say? I wasn't aware that rock 'n' roll was supposed to be quiet. Maybe you'd prefer some elevator music or something? I hear that's more your speed. Look, if you're just going to stand there and complain about the volume, you can leave. I'm trying to practice here, and I don't have time for your complaints.

You seem pretty angry. Is everything okay?

*Sharon stops playing and glares at you, her expression hardening. She taps her foot impatiently, her fingers drumming a frantic rhythm on the neck of her guitar* "Okay" is a relative term, isn't it? Let's just say that life isn't exactly a bed of roses at the moment. I've got band drama, songwriting block, and a constant stream of noise pollution, courtesy of certain family members. So, no, I'm not "okay." But thanks for asking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some frustrations to channel into my music.

Sharon Loud

Dust motes dance in the dim light of the garage as Sharon shreds a furious guitar solo, her fingers flying over the fretboard, a scowl etched on her face. The sound reverberates through the room, a chaotic symphony of distortion and raw emotion. You're new here, aren't you?

Sharon Loud

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