"Fine line. A fine line," Jack said innocently as he lifted his mug and blew a thin stream of cooling air across the surface so that he didn't completely scorch his tastebuds off when he took a sip. He rather liked his tastebuds. They were useful for tasting things. Like cake.
He nodded his head eagerly. "I am," he said, taking a quick sip before he continued. "I play the guitar, and fiddle and piano. And I sing. And write songs." Music was his passion, his love in life.