The mute basker.

*guitar strums*

As he strums his guitar, he remembered a song that he used to love. Yet as he moves his lips, he was struck by a barrage of memories, of what he used to be, of what they used to be. Overwhelmed by all this, he stopped playing, as silence enjoyed its last few moments of music.

It has been years since they broke up. And years since they last saw each other, yet the image of his lover has never changed in his mind. That image does not have any flawless skin or silky hair, let alone any jeans from AX or Esprit. It is merely a simple girl whom knew nothing, but how to love a person. Maybe that was why he ended the relationship, knowing that she deserves much, much better.

He picked up his guitar and pulled his guitar casing towards himself, before sitting down on his stool to count his daily income.

"Oh, $50 dollars. How generous." He thought. As he picked up the notes to fit into his cigarette box, (he had to throw away the wallet bought by her) he saw a piece of white paper lying within the pool of physical love.

"Take good care of yourself, my love." He looked up after reading it, wishing to find her at an obscure corner. All he found, was another night of nightmares.