She started nodding at the song’s rhythm miming the crowd around her, despite finding herself not enjoying that music in any possible way.
An Asian girl staring at her blueish electronic rectangle. A bored middle-aged couple staring at the corners of their private spaces in muteness. The bartender taking care of the stains on the glasses with a dirty cloth.
Nobody really cared for the talented musician on the stage. He shut his eyes though and kept on screaming harder in the microphone.
He saw the three digits on the white label – without counting the decimals -, it was slightly less of what he just withdrew from the ATM, the lack of sound in his new lonely apartment was more important than his miniaturized bank account, he grabbed the package and went to the till.