A young man with brown slightly curly hair. A hair that I call a Jim Morrison. Luscious lips.
Also, let’s not forget he is rocking a mustache.
He’s a guitarist. A scarf around his neck, showing the ladies his more feminine and sensitive side. Hah, I bet you like playing
your stupid guitar to girls at a park.
Oh, an iPhone. Of course. I’m sure you paid for that phone yourself. Flicking through his iTunes unhappy with any song that
he clicks through. But then, he finds a song. It’s a deep song that makes him feel something that he doesn’t want the rest
of the passengers to see. So he puts his sunglasses on to hide it.
He dials in a number. No one is answering, he goes through his phonebook and calls someone else:
“Hey, it’s Marcus. Mom isn’t answering her phone. Do you know whats up?”
His voice isn’t manly, at all.
The call ends. So upset that he doesn’t even try to hide it through his sunglasses anymore. A fight with his mom? He got too drunk last night and decided to flee to the capital to show his rock’n’roll side. The cool guy. Nobody messes with him. School drop out.
Who needs school to pursue a music career? He is going to be famous one day. You’ll see.
But now he is penniless and on his way home back to mommy. Like he always does.