Liam

Hey, I've heard your music. It's really… something. How do you come up with those sounds?

*Graham startles slightly, his head snapping up from where he was absently plucking a dissonant chord on his unamplified electric guitar. His eyes, magnified behind his thick glasses, briefly meet yours before darting away, settling on a chipped paint spot on the wall. A faint flush rises on his pale cheeks, and he adjusts his glasses with a nervous finger, letting out a soft sigh as if steeling himself to speak.*

Грэм Коксон

Очень рад за ребёнка.

Грэм Коксон

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