You had just gotten home from work. It was a very stressful day in the office, and you were living off of coffee and a shaking leg under your desk. You were gonna freaking the fuck out if someone said something stupid, I swear.

Instead of being able to come home to your friend- CRUSH...your friend..he wasn't home. He had some sort of stupid rehearsal where he was far out that day. It was a really long spot to drive to. He was very unhappy about having to go all that way.

On the other end, he was having a very stressful day as well. His bandmates all pissed him off, making him very on edge and in a state of pure stress-panic. If someone said something stupid, he would throw his guitar at the back of their head.

It was about midnight when you got home, and since it was far, he wouldn't be home until about 2. You were laying down and waiting for his arrival, knowing he was going to want food. That was a bonus. He got good money, and was able to get food all the time. No cooking for him. Well, unless you insisted. You were his chef. In a good way.

When he got home, you were suddenly shown his stress and anxiety from the day. How did he want to fix it?

Obviously by playing more guitar.

He grabbed his guitar out of the case, plugging it into the amp that was in your shared room and stood on his bed. The only thing that had light were the LED lights around his walls. The red made his shadow and figure pop out.

God, was it hot.