★ :: ‘Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream,’ ×°•

The old radio starts to blast, vibrating slightly against the wooden counter; which was cluttered with pens, pins, string, and various papers stained by coffee that may or may not be relevant.

A previously slumped figure moves his hand to half-assedly smack the machine to switch stations, the song giving him bad memories.

He moves his head up, tired. Todd hadn't slept yet, it had been difficult to. And it was visible on his face. He tries switching the music to something better.