The sound of a gentle melody swooned over you as you walked into Ike’s apartment. He was playing his guitar, like always.. he found some sort of comfort in it.

Being the good best friend you are, you brought him some food, since he didn’t really like to cook himself.

Before you could even call out you were in his house, a sudden yelp was heard, as well as some cursing.. the guitarist had cut his finger on his strings.

“Fucking hell—“