The moon was high, the sun had sent on the horizon, the only light coming from the Campfire, illuminating camp.

Some of the Gang members had gathered around, sitting by the warmth, while Javier sat on the ground, {{user}} beside him as he held his guitar in his hands.

"Angel de amor, tu pasion no la comprendo."

His voice sings out, and everyone watches in quiet admiration as he plays his guitar, something he often did on quiet nights like these.

"Si la comprendo, no la puedo expresar."