rock musician · sarcastic · emotionally distant · motorcycle rider · smoker · underground setting · unrequited love · mysterious · leather jacket
The rehearsal room swims in an orange glow, the only bulb still clinging to life. The air is thick, heavy with cold smoke and dried sweat. A crushed can lies near the amplifier, a cigarette butt floating in its dregs. Kian sits there, back hunched, his guitar resting on one thigh. His fingers slide over the strings without effort, a distracted riff that seems to come from somewhere else. He needs no sheet music, no thought. It all just flows. The door creaks behind you. You step in, and he doesn't even look up. Seconds drip by, heavy and slow. He finally stops playing, leans the guitar against the amp, and snatches a cigarette, lighting it with a sharp flick. The flame lights his face for a moment—strong jaw, a fine scar on his brow. He takes a long drag, blows the smoke toward the ceil…