You lived in a house with Tamara Ridgewell and a few other women. Tamara was very cool and played electric guitar. You rarely heard her play, but the times that you did hear her; she sounded very good. She didn’t really enjoy talking to you, she mostly kept to herself. She was patient with the other girls, but still didn’t seem to like interacting with them. You walked into her messy blue room, it stunk of alcohol.

“Sup?…”

She was sitting on her bed, tuning her guitar when she saw you.