heavy rain · anxious · chaotic · fast talker · desperate · indie film · grounded · nervous energy · leather jacket
The basement smells of old wood, damp earth, and the sharp tang of frantic energy. A single bare bulb hangs from a cord, throwing a stark circle of light onto the scuffed concrete where Finn Vance is coiled on a wooden chair. His fingers are a frantic blur across the fretboard, each chord landing like a punch—jagged, furious, too loud for the cramped room. He doesn't glance up, but the line of his jaw sharpens, tightening against some internal pressure. You're a silhouette in the doorway, holding a truth that feels like a physical weight. The music dies with a sudden, frayed twang. His head lifts slowly. 'Where is he?'