[centre][hr] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180522/fd497ae978d19c78d4f7e13fb727320b.png[/img] [hr][/centre] [color=Gray] From the morning he'd left the radio broadcast centre, all he'd done was wander around aimlessly without a care in the world. Every now and then, he would snap images of random occurrences that happened throughout the streets. Every now and then, an individual or two would flash him strange looks when he would randomly flip out his phone and snapshot the latest developments of the city. Whether it was new complexes being constructed, outlandish performers on the street or the occasional confrontation between lifelong friends, every picture could write a thousand songs if he so desired. Whenever he was struck with the lyricist's block, these photos were what came to the light and showed him what everyday life could offer for the voice and sound of instruments. Occasionally he felt a little pretentious in doing so, but if it helped his career without violating laws or morals, then so be it. However, as the time went on, he felt more and more drawn into something intriguing. Within Central Point, Kook's Musician Store was sat comfortably between multiple clothing chains and restaurants on the main street. It's where most of Oscar's equipment came from, despite certain specialised and personalised gear. Recently, he'd been in contact with Julian "Kook" Konosok, a polish emigrant who'd spent his life selling and expanding his salesmanship beyond expectations. Julian had a fresh take on fair pricing and keeping Sol City updated with the latest brands of guitars, drums, pianos, percussion instruments and whatnot to give himself a standout name in the metropolis. They'd been talking about the latest import of an old analogue drum machine, the CR78, which was famously used by certain acoustic jammers who played in small pubs back in Scotland. Oscar had placed an order on the first one to come through, and the remembrance of it arriving a few days ago caught his interest away from looking for inspiration and more towards the potential to practice and play. Upon entering, Oscar was immediately greeted with the regular, huge open space that the shop had. Since its early beginnings, the store really had progressed beyond Julian's wildest dreams. It was great to see him selling everything he wanted with success and prosperity to it. Perhaps the nickname [i]City of Dreams[/i] he always used to describe Sol city was becoming clearer as the recent days went by.[/color] [color=Green][b]"Mr McGuinness!"[/b][/color] [color=gray]The blend between his Slavic, slightly German and fluent English was once again coming into the light as the frantic man cracked a large smile. The two had become quite acquainted recently, which was good to know. Having contacts like him in the music industry was crucial if he ever dreamed of getting anywhere.[/color] [color=Green][b]"No dilly-dallying! I know why you're here, my good man!"[/b][/color] [color=Gray]Without allowing Oscar to say what he wanted, he already knew from the expressions of his face to a telepathic inference that he had come for the newly ordered CR78. It had always sounded very artificial, but a strange charisma had come from its simplicity that attracted Oscar beyond comprehension. He had a tendency to fall into the more simple things in life, finding a strange attraction to anything of the sort. Within minutes, the man was already back out and setting up an array of wires leading out to the front of the store.[/color] [color=Gold][b]"Oh, uh...Julian? What are you doing? I thought I was just going to pick it up and-"[/b][/color] [color=gray]Suddenly, the man once again cut him off with an extravagant booming voice filling his dominion.[/color] [color=Green][b]"Nonsense. You test it out here, right now. I'll grab you a Telecaster and you can jam outside for a while. Make sure it works and attract me some more customers, yes?"[/b][/color] [color=gray] Oscar couldn't help but love Julian's enthusiasm, constantly. There was never a dull moment in his life, and the previous promises Oscar had made to perform for him in gratitude was now sinking in once more. Well, having performers outside of his shop just jamming away was always a good business practice to attracting even more customers, despite the fact he couldn't be satisfied with the masses he'd already accumulated. He was a special fellow, no doubt. Oscar could see him going places no one else would ever dare to jump in the business of retail and salesmanship. Several extension leads later leading outside the front door, a stool had been set up. It was always really awkward and anxious for Oscar to just dump himself out into the street to play. With everyone walking past, he felt a bit too close to the audience for comfort. It wasn't that he was in disagreement with being near others, it was just the sudden pressure of not planning for the situation. It was always that "out-of-schedule" experience that worried him. He'd been living so many recent years of his life following a strict timetable, doing the same thing in and out of one another within his rehabilitation department that he almost forgot what freedom was like. Everything had to be planned and go accordingly to it. Now he was, though not forced, being inadvertently pressured into playing and testing out his new gear upon arrival. Seconds passed and soon enough he was outside, sat in a stool while many people walked by without the bat of an eye. So he sat there, waiting. It was awkward. Everything was awkward, but soon enough, time started to take its toll when he flicked on the CR78 drum machine, getting the telecaster on a clean tone and slowly playing some soothing tunes he slightly improvised over the course of his playing. And with the final few notes found, he began to sing where he was...[/color] [centre][hider=Reference/Similar song being played][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hgVihWjK2c [/youtube][/hider][/centre]