Who: Nathan Petrelli and an accoustic guitar Where: the park When: mid afternoon Why: He's found a guitar and doesn't want to disturb his roomies Open: Yes Rating: TBD but I'm thinking low
Nathan didn't really know why he hadn't noticed the pair of guitars sitting in the corner of his room collecting dust. He assumed he was too drunk or too preoccupied with other things to actually notice or remember them. Once he got a little closer he realized that he actually recognized them. The acoustic guitar he'd received as a Christmas present from a family friend... he couldn't remember that friend's name at the moment but he had a sneaking suspicion it was a visit from a younger Linderman. The electric (and the amps that with with it) he'd actually bought himself as a teenager with a great deal of saved up allowances and money he'd received from working odd jobs because, yes, when Nathan was young he had a paper route and offered to walk dogs. His parents had never complained. They'd been happy their young son had been taking an interest in business. It meant they could focus on the baby and Nathan would be out of their hair. He actually assumed that was why they'd shipped him off to boarding school once he was old enough. Peter needed attention and Nathan was old enough to take care of himself. Sometimes Nathan really wondered if his parents actually loved him. He hadn't been born with his abilities... he had to be a disappointment.
Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Nathan got up off the bed and pulled the door to his room open, looking around to make sure none of his roomies were around before shutting it and immediately getting washed up and dressed. He wanted to see if he could still play but he'd be damned if anyone he lived with was going to hear him suck at guitar. He decided he needed out of the room anyway and what better place than the park? Sure, it was cold and there was snow but that never stopped any of the street musicians from doing it and if street musicians could do it so could a former Congressional candidate. Pulling on a warm coat and a neat pair of fingerless gloves he found, Nathan grabbed his accoustic and made sure it was tuned before slipping out of his window and flying towards the park. As much as he loved flying it just really wasn't a lot of fun in the cold and snow. It was so cold up there it made the park feel warm.
Taking a seat at a nearby bench, Nathan began to fiddle around with his guitar. He was definitely rusty and, at first, he was at a loss of what to do with his fingers. The gloves weren't helping either so he pulled those off and slipped them into a pocket. After a few more minutes of fiddling around and failing his fingers managed to remember a melody and just what they were supposed to do on this wooden contraption. Smiling a little more brightly than he'd managed to since Peter's disappearance he began to hum along with the melody. By the time he'd been able to remember the tempo and actually keep up with what he could remember the beat of the song being he was singing an old Jim Croce song softly to himself. "But isn't that the way they say it goes? Let's forget all that and give me the number if you can find it so I can call just to tell them I'm fine and to show I've overcome the blow, learned to take it well. I only wish my words could just convince myself that it just wasn't real, but that's not the way it feels..." He'd been so caught up in this former hobby of his he didn't think about whether or not it would gain some kind of attention.