Keye had found an outlet...somewhere. We won't go into where, because the author has never really gone hunting for outlets out-of-doors.
He was sitting on his little amp, wailing away at his electric guitar. Obnoxious, certainly, but not without talent. He was even singing, albeit softer than usual; he'd regained his voice, but it was still low and timid.
He wore a navy blue trench (his white was unfortunately bloodstained) that was being whipped dramatically about in the wind.

Ivan Gothric just happened to hear the familiar, if not beloved, wail of an electric guitar from a block away and, intrigued, had come to investigate. Upon reaching the young man sitting on his amp, Ivan leaned one slim shoulder against a wall near the guy. He wasn’t hard to miss. His own guitar strapped across his shoulder sitting safely in it’s case, he wore baggy black pants with dozens of straps just hanging so that they flapped around as he moved. His shirt was black, short sleeved because although it was cold it wasn’t that cold, and had red writing across the chest. ‘If you can read this, your eyeballs are upside down.’ His hair was pink, though his eyebrows said that it’d been blonde before, and he wore a floppy straw cowboy hat. He wasn’t tall, five feet six inches, and he wasn’t fat, actually, quite the opposite. He was bony and weighed only one hundred thirty. But he was always eating.

“Sounds good.” But I can’t hear what you’re singing.

The sound died away, and Keye stared at Ivan through a pair of darkly tinted lenses.
Scared.
He shrank back.
"Thanks." he said, nearly inaudible, trying to keep the trembling out of his voice.

Ivan frowned slightly at the frightened voice of the other? what’s up dude? It’s just a compliment. He fixed a smiled onto his thin lips and nodded once in reply. He didn’t move closer at the quiet voice but remained where he was. That wasn’t a quiet voice just because it was, and Ivan didn’t want to upset the other by advancing on him. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and looked on.

“Can you play another?”

He nodded, though when he struck the first chord, he kept his eyes on Ivan.
Overly cautious.
He sang again, too...but again, he was just loud enough for the tune to be heard, but not loud enough for anyone to comprehend the words.

Ivan wanted to move forward, to hear the lyrics. But he didn't. The other looked far too skitish to handle too much pressure. Instead, he remained leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, one finger plucking at the strap of his guitar case.

His eyes weren't on the others but rather, he was more interested in the other guys fingers on the strings.

The final notes died away and left Keye staring silently at Ivan.
"My name's Keye." he offered nervously. It was just a name. Couldn't hurt.

Ivan produced a welcome smile, straightened by a year of braces, and whitened by stubborn brushing of the teeth. He uncrossed his arms and stepped forward only slightly on one foot, the other didn’t move, showing no intention of moving forward further and held out one hand, the fingers on this hand clipped short. If Keye wanted to shake, he’d shake his hand. Ivan would find scarce offense at being left ‘hanging’.

“I’m Ivan.”

Keye eyed the hand and decided not to shake it. He did smile though, to ease any offense he might have caused. He wasn't trying to be unfriendly.
"Hi, Ivan."

He held his hand out long enough to be sure that the other was or wasn’t going to shake it, then let it drop to his side, then curl back up under the other, crossing them across his chest again.

“You play good. Who taught you?”

"I did." he said. It wasn't boastful, just the statement of a fact. There had been no one to teach him, so he taught himself.

“Impressive.” Which it was. That’s a really hard talent to learn on your own. “So did I. But I’ve got nothing on that on the guitar.” Now, the Bass or the Drums or...yes, the violin, hands down, Ivan was good. He looked around. “What made you find a plug to play outside for?” He sounded amused, which he was.

((Why is KYLE replying to me on Emmy's thread? 0.o ))
"The neighbors complain when I play inside."
There was the slightest of smiles, though still shaky.
"Besides, I wanted to share the love."

((Because Kyles a brat and I threw a spoon at her for throwing on at me. She did that to three other RP boreds too. Sorry. BRAT! As for the post...I wrote that, she just edited in that stupid thing about her...which I am now DELETING!))

He shook his head. "mine yell at me too. And My Aunt. She says it sounds like a dead cat wailing and that I should start playing something nicer, like the flute." He snorted and rolled his eyes.