As usual, Jazz was blasting some music from his quarters. His blue optics were shining through his visor.

His 4 meter frame leaned back in his chair as his fingers drummed against the desk near his berth as he listened to some human music.

He always kept everyone up late, so much to the point they had to soundproof his room. Though, even with the soundproofing, the person next door can still hear his music.

He always felt a bit guilty, but he couldn’t help himself. He loves music..