Jack had never played in public before, only for family and people he worked with. There was something distinctly different abot making music without being asked, though. When he played for familiar faces, they only heard, and he only showed, what that level of intimacy allowed. his feelings on the weather, perhaps, or words that another had written. Words that hig behind the golded armor of notes and chords, marching in little circles while trumpeting their false emotions.

    Playing in public felt more like he had been stripped of the armor, the walls, any shred of covering that hid his soul from both the people in the street and himself. he stoof and performed, naked to their ears.

    When night came and the people retreated into their buildings of bottles to hide from their lives, he decided to join them. Nudity had paid him well, and he could afford  night of peace, and perhaps a bit more medicine.
    He soaked in the music and his prescription, drifting off into his class and the green liquid in it.