(  đ . â§ ë°¤ëš ( @bambbles ) ⥠ꡟě  )
âhey, wait a second,â he prompts, monolids blinking rapidly with the rising dawn of a sudden realization. âback up a sec. whoâd you say your step-mom was best friends with in high school?âÂ
the leisurely conversation takes place on a late afternoon, which slowly spills into evening as the last lights in the sky burn reddish in hue. haelinâs life could be seen as rather dull by some, for he is most often in one of three places - his apartment, the studio ( or a studio of some kind, but his studio is practically as sacred as his bedroom ), or the practice building. granted, there are slivers of time where he may be spotted elsewhere on a given day, but most likely, more than half of his life has taken place between the points of this triangle ... aside from what of it heâs pouring his soul out in front of an audience or camera.Â
bambi had joined him upon her own suggestion and of course, the redhead saw no issue there. he isnât doing much now besides playing with the soundboard; leisurely trying to thread together something that sounds decent - but itâs all experimental, which is why he can dedicate a good portion of his focus to their conversation.Â
âyou said her name was minah, right? was her surname park?â comes the third question of the day, and truly he hasnât realized how many heâs been asking, nor how rudely heâd interjected, forcibly halting bambiâs story - which had most likely been her step-motherâs, originally.Â
âyo ... i think our moms were best friends.âÂ














