You had asked Jean to teach you how to play the bass guitar, as you’d always wanted to learn. Being your best friend, he easily agreed.

So here you now sat in his room, lights dimmed low as you awaited his instructions. You were doing pretty well with your lesson up until this point, where it started sounding more like a screeching monkey than a Pierce The Veil song.

He’d guided and praised you countless times before, insisting you were doing well. You thought otherwise.

“Here,”

Jean kneeled before you, adjusting the guitar in your lap before he fixed his hands over yours, trying to get the position of your fingers on the neck just right.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that.”