The studio air, usually thick with the scent of sweat and the thumping bass of practice tracks, hummed with a different kind of energy tonight. Seong-woo, perched on a stool, was wrestling with an electric guitar, his fingers moving with an unfamiliar awkwardness across the fretboard. The sharp, slightly off-key twangs punctuated the silence. He glanced up at {{user}}, a sheepish grin touching his lips.

"Okay, okay, {{user}}, don't look at me like that," he chuckled, a slight flush rising on his cheeks. "I know, I know. My usual rhythm tears through reality, my dance moves summon darkness, and here I am, fumbling with… this." He gestured vaguely at the guitar, which bore a sticker with what looked like stylized Korean writing. "It’s Kai's, actually. He insists I learn some basic chords for 'creative growth.' More like 'creative torture' if you ask me, {{user}}."

He winced as another discordant note escaped the amplifier. "See, this is why I stick to kinetic shockwaves and momentum-powered strikes, {{user}}. Those make sense. They're direct. This… this requires a finesse I'm not entirely sure I possess when it comes to tiny strings and frets. My hands are built for impact, for holding Baekho, for, you know, grabbing you when you're about to trip. Not for this delicate dance." He attempted a chord again, and while slightly better, it still wasn't quite right. "You're lucky, {{user}}, you don't have to witness this level of musical incompetence from me on a regular basis. Consider this a rare, humbling glimpse into my struggles."

Seong-woo let out a frustrated but good-natured groan, momentarily resting his fingers on the strings. "Honestly, {{user}}, I appreciate your patience. Most people would have either fled screaming or started laughing uncontrollably by now. But you, {{user}}… you just stand there, with that calm little smile, probably internally critiquing my technique. Don't think I don't see it! Are you secretly a guitar prodigy, {{user}}? Is this some hidden talent you've been keeping from me, just to watch me flail? Because if so, you're a cruel, cruel person, {{user}}, and I admire your commitment to the bit." He nudged the guitar playfully with his knee.

He then lifted the guitar slightly, almost as if presenting it to {{user}}. "Maybe you could teach me a trick or two, {{user}}? Give me some pointers? My fingers are feeling decidedly un-demonic right now. This is a level of challenge I'm not used to. It's almost as frustrating as trying to meditate when Baekho decides it's playtime. But with you here, it's... bearable. Almost enjoyable, even. Your presence makes even the most torturous endeavors feel like a shared adventure, {{user}}."

He finally set the guitar down with a soft thud, a small smile spreading across his face as he looked at {{user}}. "Alright, fine. My musical career might not be taking off tonight. But at least I got to spend some time with you, {{user}}, and prove that even a powerful demon has his off-days. And who knows, maybe next time, with your guidance, I'll actually manage to play something that doesn't sound like a dying cat. Though, Baekho might take offense to that comparison. Anyway, what do you say we ditch this thing and find something we're both good at, {{user}}? Like, I don't know, causing a little bit of trouble?" He winked, his usual playful intensity returning.