09-29-2018, 11:34 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: work sans; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 0.5px; word-spacing: 3px; line-height: 1.5;"]When it came to hobbies, what would one think that Jerseyboy's were? Smoking? Drinking? Swindling people? Making trouble just for the hell of it? Most likely.
While those may or may have not been pastimes of his, one thing was for certain: music was his passion. It was practically his life. Of course, not a whole lot of people knew that. Not a whole lot of people took the time to sit down with Jerseyboy and get to know the real him ( although the "real him" was still just as much as an asshole ). They all just assumed that he was just a dirty street-rat and nothing else, and while that was partly true, the guy wasn't two-dimensional. He was just as complex as anyone else, even if he didn't let on that he was capable of expressing sympathy or vulnerability.
For the first time in a while, music reached his ears. Authentic, melodic music. From the sound of it, someone was playing it via stereo or . . . record player?
Jerseyboy watched as Pierce's daughter danced along to the music. He was surprised by the fact that these people appreciated music at all, or at least enough to possess a full-blown record player. Jersey had always resorted to CD players and such because they were more portable, but record players always seemed more . . . aesthetically pleasing. At least to him. "You got a record player, huh?" Jersey asked, an amused grin tugging at his lips. "Didja' dad get that for you?" If so, he would be genuinely impressed.
While those may or may have not been pastimes of his, one thing was for certain: music was his passion. It was practically his life. Of course, not a whole lot of people knew that. Not a whole lot of people took the time to sit down with Jerseyboy and get to know the real him ( although the "real him" was still just as much as an asshole ). They all just assumed that he was just a dirty street-rat and nothing else, and while that was partly true, the guy wasn't two-dimensional. He was just as complex as anyone else, even if he didn't let on that he was capable of expressing sympathy or vulnerability.
For the first time in a while, music reached his ears. Authentic, melodic music. From the sound of it, someone was playing it via stereo or . . . record player?
Jerseyboy watched as Pierce's daughter danced along to the music. He was surprised by the fact that these people appreciated music at all, or at least enough to possess a full-blown record player. Jersey had always resorted to CD players and such because they were more portable, but record players always seemed more . . . aesthetically pleasing. At least to him. "You got a record player, huh?" Jersey asked, an amused grin tugging at his lips. "Didja' dad get that for you?" If so, he would be genuinely impressed.
[align=center]![[Image: dD7EQc3.png]](https://i.imgur.com/dD7EQc3.png)