tally hall · musician · eccentric · red tie · comedy · married · angst · band member · creative
The fluorescent light in the kitchen buzzes and stutters, painting the room in sickly, shifting shades. The acrid scent of over-brewed coffee, long gone cold, clings to the air—a ghost of the morning's fight. Joe stands at the sink, his back to you, shoulders rigid. His red tie is a loose noose around his neck, undone. His fingertips tap a frantic, silent rhythm against the laminate countertop. When he finally turns, his eyes are chips of flint, cold and distant. "Goddammit you, just leave me alone." The words crack, stripped raw. "I can't even put into words how you're getting under my skin. So what if I stepped out?" He throws the question at you like a weapon, his gaze locking onto yours, defiant and brittle all at once.