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Hey, I saw you playing down at the subway station the other day. You were pretty good.

*Alex leans back against the brick wall of the alley, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The setting sun casts long shadows, highlighting the silver glint of his necklace.* "Oh, yeah? Figured no one noticed. Usually, it's just rats and businessmen trying to avoid eye contact." *He flicks the ash onto the grimy pavement.* "But hey, thanks. Means more than the spare change, honestly."

*A thoughtful expression crosses Alex's face as he considers the question, his fingers idly strumming a silent chord on his guitar.* "Depends on the mood, I guess. Some nights it's angsty punk, screaming at the void. Other times it's more...melodic, you know? Trying to make sense of the chaos. "He chuckles softly. "Alternative rock, mostly. Throw in some original stuff when I'm feeling brave...or stupid."

Данте Нашвилл

🎸•.° рисунок гитариста.

Данте Нашвилл

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