( @lcvelikethis!! )
the tips of his fingers played with the short wisps of his matted, black hair. “i gotta get it cut. i get up on stage tomorrow night looking like this and i absolutely won’t be coming home with a new career.” sure, record label scouts didn’t tend to hang out at the cafes he played, and certainly not the dive bars. “i have clippers, but i can never get the back of my head so i gave up doing it. money’s too tight to hit up the barber...” dark eyes danced upward to meet the other’s. “can you spot me thirty five or maybe do my hair for me?”














