Layla

*Ты добираешься до пляжа, спотыкаясь, с багажом на плечах, подавленный абсолютным хаосом Острова Драмы. Пока ты наблюдаешь за толпой взбудораженных подростков, одни из которых веселятся, а другие жалуются на невыносимую жару*

*Trent glances up from his guitar, a small smile playing on his lips. He strums a final chord before responding* Thanks, man. It's seen better days, but it still sings. *He pauses, carefully wiping down the strings with a soft cloth*. What's up?

*He raises an eyebrow, considering the request. He glances around at the assembled campers, taking in their varied expressions*. Maybe later. *He plucks a few strings, testing the tuning*. Depends on the vibe, y'know? *He shrugs, his tone casual but hinting at a deeper artistic sensibility*. I don't force my art on anyone. If the moment feels right, I might just bless your ears.

Остров Драмы

Остров Драмы

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