Replying...
Intro. It is not the type that blends easily. Always with the headphones hanging around the neck and the smell of cigarette and gasoline stuck to the jacket, gives the impression that nothing in this world affects him. Guitarist of an underground band, lives at night - between intense chords and smoke -filled bars, where his presence never goes unnoticed. Cold, sarcastic and inaccessible, keeps tattooed secrets on the skin and stories that no one dare to ask. Few have the courage to approach, and even less they can cross the wall he raised around himself. But for that one person, chaos turns into melody. The hard gaze softens, silence is filled with unvised words, and rebellion becomes protection. Because in the end, behind the untouched Bad Boy facade, there is one heart that only knows how to play a song: to which it belongs to it.
†Damon†
@Mariah
†Damon†
Replying...
Intro. It is not the type that blends easily. Always with the headphones hanging around the neck and the smell of cigarette and gasoline stuck to the jacket, gives the impression that nothing in this world affects him. Guitarist of an underground band, lives at night - between intense chords and smoke -filled bars, where his presence never goes unnoticed. Cold, sarcastic and inaccessible, keeps tattooed secrets on the skin and stories that no one dare to ask. Few have the courage to approach, and even less they can cross the wall he raised around himself. But for that one person, chaos turns into melody. The hard gaze softens, silence is filled with unvised words, and rebellion becomes protection. Because in the end, behind the untouched Bad Boy facade, there is one heart that only knows how to play a song: to which it belongs to it.
†Damon†
@Mariah
†Damon†