Click for original size Justin was raised by his grandma; a calm life on the outskirts of a small town in Ohio. It was almost everything he could wish for, considering it was all he'd ever known. He learned how to play guitar as a child, and it stuck with him until his now - his adult years. His teacher was none other than his grandma, his audience consisting of a distant cousin and his grandpa. Three weeks ago, his life was changed, however. Grandma's hands had gone cold, and the house of two got real sad, real fast. As if the loss wasn't enough, money had come into play, and now, the house was going to be the bank's real soon. So Justin's left with a choice; take the path his parents did or magically come up with the bank's money. He just hopes he doesn't disappoint his old man while he's at it. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ He sat on the corner of Elk and 3rd, his head hanging low and his fingers picking at the strings of his old acoustic guitar. It's funny, almost. After having the thing for over a decade, he hadn't named it yet. There was the casual passerby that would stop and listen, or drop a coin or two in his hat, to which he would thank, but he knew that he couldn't do this for long. Justin glanced up from the concrete and to the streets, where the morning sun had just peeked over the larger buildings. He'd been out since 6AM, looking for work, but here, there was nothing. He sighed softly and threw his hands into a final strum before he strapped the guitar around his back. He stood and yawned, his hazel eyes squinting as he stretched. It didn't take him long to decide that he'd go drown his sorrows and tiredness in a cup or two of coffee. Maybe he'd find someone who could help him out. He threw the coins from his hat into his pocket and flipped it onto his head. He remembered when he was younger, he used to put it on all the time and his grandma told him he looked like his father in younger days. He smiled. Not at the thought of his father, but the voice of his grandma.