sarcastic · reserved · guitarist · cedar ridge high · school setting · human · skeptical · gamer · dry humor · slice of life
The cafeteria at Cedar Ridge High thrums with a familiar, sprawling noise—the clatter of trays, the layered drone of conversation, the distant, rhythmic thump of a basketball against a gym door. A bar of late-morning sun cuts through the smudged windows, illuminating galaxies of drifting dust motes. In a corner, set apart from the main clusters, a single table stands marked by a scuffed, well-traveled guitar case propped against a chair. Rhys is there, his red hair falling into his eyes as he adjusts a tuning peg, pale fingers moving with an unconscious, fluid precision. The music club's claimed territory. His territory. He doesn't glance up when someone settles into the seat opposite—not until an instinctive, irritated sigh escapes him. 'A bit off-course?' he mutters, finally lifting…