Brooke was already in somewhat an outfit, which was a pair of shorts and a bra. Now that she had plans to go out, she grabbed a thin black cardigan out of her closet, pulling it over her body and buttoning it up. She walked out to her car, getting in and driving to Presley's house. The blonde parked in her driveway, before getting out and walking to the door, knocking gently.

He stopped singing and brushing his fingers over the strings of his guitar when his voice cracked. Angrily, he stomped his foot and tugged his brown curls with his hand. It wasn’t even worth it — doing what he loved because in reality, he wouldn’t get anywhere. Coffee shops denied him, when he tried to sing in public he’d immediately get kicked out. He sighed quietly and set his guitar aside to roll up his sleeves. No one was looking; he thought — and if someone was watching, he wouldn’t dare role up his sleeves due to the endless amount of scars being revealed.

"Hi." Charlie said with a quick smile and wave.