Yuki gazed at the piece of paper, neither amused, entertained, or invested, more so bored and deadpan expressionless, his eyes reading everything, his blonde hair waving with the wind of the night blowing lightly, he blew a puf of smoke to a side and tossed the paper, putting his hands back in his pocket and finally spoke as he passed the stranger beside him.

"You write like you're at a third-grade reading level. Is this drivel really your idea of a love song?"