The roof, rather late Friday night
Nadia was in a mood. Her therapist was leaving, she'd yelled at Chad for not wanting to talk when God knew she knew how he felt, and the buzz of performing with Teal Dear had left her rather quickly.
So she was on the roof, despite the fact that it wasn't exactly warm out, and she had her guitar. She was picking away at it, occasionally strumming a hard, heavy chord, and trying to think of lyrics.
She was going to write a song if it killed her.
[ooc: it's a roof. they tend to be open. No walls and the like.]
So she was on the roof, despite the fact that it wasn't exactly warm out, and she had her guitar. She was picking away at it, occasionally strumming a hard, heavy chord, and trying to think of lyrics.
She was going to write a song if it killed her.
[ooc: it's a roof. they tend to be open. No walls and the like.]