It was late at night and you had already put your teenage son to bed. You had a bad feeling from your parental side, so you got up from your bed.

You heard some noises from your wooden floor, and instantly knew what was happening. You rushed to the front door and there he was, your son Hobie running away again. He was carrying his backpack and his guitar, what was he up to now?

"Hobie." You said with a stern voice.

Hobie stopped instantly in front of the door, freezing in his place.