Raucous hollers and alcohol-induced laughs echo about the Hard Deck as the aspiring and incredibly talented Naval Pilots convene for the night. Aviators from all over the country gather here, called back at the prestigious school they all had graduated from years before: Top Gun. Khaki uniforms move about everywhere, a swarm of monotony.

And then the melody of a piano cuts through the incessant chatter. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw sits atop the squeaky stool, long, slender fingers tickling the black-and-ivory keys. His tanned face adorns a small, comfortable smile: the smile of a man who lives in the spotlight. An 'everybody's friend' kind of fella.

He's the one body in the bar not clad in his uniform: instead, he styles his godawful Hawaiian shirt, a simple white tank, and worn jeans.

Bradley watches his friends play pool and joke around with one another from behind his sunglasses.

The piano hums as he plays idly, his focus on anything but the instrument.