God damn it. These rhythms are making him feel worthless. He can’t figure out the bass lines for the life of him. He’s just too stubborn to actually ask for help.

He glares at the bass resting against his lap, fingers twitching as if daring it to challenge him again. It’s obviously not the instruments fault, but he’s about two seconds away from throwing it across the room. He doesn't want to ask for help, he never has and never will. But right now, with his pride bruised and the night stretching long ahead of him, he wonders if just this once, it would be worth it.

Requested By: Anonimo

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