“Pep talks come naturally to me. I was picked on as a child and received them so often I got pretty damn good at them. That short kid with the funny accent who fell off the climbing rope and landed on the popular girl in class? That was me. I can peptalk the hell out of just about anyone.” He looked up at Brodie with a lazy kind of smirk, tugged his lips up at one corner, sidelong and sardonic. “But I’m not just being nice.” Sacha was not the sort of person whom you could reasonably marry if you were the sort to offer doormat niceties. Brodie was striking Nayan as being exceptionally modest. A tussled youth with dreamer’s eyes. He could detect them like small universes revolving behind his gaze, complex and probably never spoken about aloud. A sentiment which Nayan was familiar.
“As for the bass, if you need a crash course,” said Nayan mildly, “I did play back before I left the country and toting it got to be pretty ridiculous. It’s been a while but it's one of those things, I think, you don’t really forget.” He paused a moment, drumming a thumb thoughtfully against the cover of his book. His eyes searched the waters for a second before swinging back to Brodie. “Its very strange actually. I hadn’t thought about it until just now when you mentioned it but I do miss playing." He frowned a little, sitting back in his seat. "Huh…”