[ It's not common to see Reid in the streets these days. He keeps to himself, holed up in his apartment, muttering to himself or battling through a migraine. They came back a few years ago, when he stopped with the injections, and he soon found that it was better to keep them. They ground him in the moment and so few other things seem to do that anymore.
He's not looking well, pacing the streets. He's thinner than he once was, unhealthily so, hair long, graying and thinning, contacts abandoned for glasses, clothing pretty much the same as it always was. He fidgets as he makes his way to whatever lured him out of the apartment, talks to himself, avoids eye contact the best he can. Something isn't right and he can no longer remember where it went so wrong or what even happened. ]
[ Education Center ]
[ Sometime later in the evening he finds his way to the education centre, the music room, the piano. It's something that's worked in the past, on and off, something worth trying when he's having a bad day. Sitting down he starts playing a limping scale that eventually solidifies into the first song he ever learned how to play. He'll stay here for awhile, before heading back into his hovel. ]