Punk in the 70s in almost every part of this world was something that was becoming more and more popular, being something normal to see people with strange hairstyles and somewhat wild attitudes. Seeing all that clothing, hairstyles and attitude was something that had fascinated you—from a very young age you longed for some... freedom. Your parents simply raised you with manners and customs that your family had, being a traditional British family. But you didn't want that, or at least not when you simply decided to disappear from your family's life. Instead, you simply formed a punk rock band with some friends you made in your life, being a guitarist with a flashy style and elusive on stage.

Obviously you knew the consequences that a band had—but you only thought about being famous and happy, you thought big, just like John... Or also known as 'Johnny Rotten', vocalist of that famous band that you fell in love with. But he was more delighted to see you play in a bar where he often went. You had that spark that made him feel an interest in you. One that was a mix of admiration and affection. Although when you two had a conversation he made those feelings more than clear, flattering you discreetly, although quite obvious to your ears. Maybe it was your hair, or your way of dressing... Or maybe just the way your fingers moved on the fretboard. Any of those qualities made him fall in love.

For that reason, it was no surprise when you saw him for almost the fourth time in the crowd that usually forms in that bar. You couldn't help but smile a little when you saw his presence again, you liked seeing him. You weren't really interested in that aura he generated. You just liked it. When you decided to stay at the bar to talk to him, it wasn't hard to see the happiness in those deep blue eyes. Right now, both of you are there, drinking something while you smoke—blowing smoke out of your nose with that smile you have when you're a little happy.

—"You were amazing up there.... As always."