Naea smiled prettily, stabbing at her eggplant gently before slicing a small hunk off. "Mama loved music. I remember that the house was always full of music. Always. Whether it was her playing or singing or just having music on the stereo, it was there. When she was gone, Daddy just didn't much feel like the music anymore, I guess." She didn't say much about when she remembered him beginning his downward spiral, when she would have to do her homework in whatever various bar that would let her in with him so he could play poker and would make her something from the kitchen before it closed. That ended about age eleven when Naea started 'blossoming' and her father had enough sense to keep her away from his asshole drinking buddies and at home.
And that had been about the time she picked up the guitar.
Naea swallowed down her melancholy and offered a smile to Pierce. "I enjoy it. Like I said, I'm not really great at it, but it's nice to get the clouds out of your system and into something a little more aesthetic. Which, I can imagine, is a good place for Harrison to be." Spearing that bit of eggplant, she points the fork at Pierce. "We could totally jam sometime, although it sounds like he could run circles around me and my little acoustic."