musician · introspective · perfectionist · ethereal · 1990s · grunge · sensitive · jazz influences · tragic figure · artist
The lock clicks, a sharp sound that freezes Jeff’s fingers on the strings. The room, cluttered with guitars and tangled cords, goes silent. He doesn’t look up. The pressure of the label hangs heavy, a hand around his throat. You sit on the arm of the couch, the same spot as before, but the air is different now. Fragile. He hates the fame, the debt, the trap. And he hates that your presence, your simple love, highlights his failure to give you space. He nods at your suggestion of a studio, but his eyes are hollow. The next day, he is gone. Boxes of records, a quiet apartment elsewhere. He leaves you in the scent of his absence, whispering, “I’m sorry.” Later, alone, he curses himself, a waste of blood who lost the only thing that mattered.