OOM: February 2000: 11th and B Loft

[rockstardavis]

The Loft is... mostly as it always has been. Perhaps a bit cleaner, perhaps a few more things to eat lying around, but really, it never changes. Roger is on the couch, Fender in-lap, plucking out some tune that will probably end up on the Moving Pictures soundtrack. Strangely, no one else seems to be around. Odd? Probably not.

Comments

[fallen_april]

The girl who walks through the doorway is like a ghost in more ways than her silence. She looks around like she's not entirely sure she's in this place, her hand on the doorframe and her eyes wide.

The last time she was in the Loft, she'd left behind her own bloody corpse, a note, and all her things. She shouldn't be here.

But it worked, and she's here, and she really can't tear her eyes away from the musician on the couch.

[rockstardavis]

Roger hasn't even looked up from his guitar. He's still plucking away. However, he hears her come in. "What'd you forget?" History... repeats itself? Or not?

[fallen_april]

April swallows hard, trying to get her voice to work.

"A... a lot of things," she says finally, her voice almost too soft to be heard. "Like saying goodbye." Maybe it's cheesy or corny and if it were one of Mark's movies, people would groan loudly, but it's the first thing that comes to mind and... well, she's not really in a position to over-think things at the moment.

[rockstardavis]

Roger stops dramatically, then looks up, actually dropping his Fender. He stares for a moment, blankly, then finally finds his voice, uncertain, cracking. "April?"