Jack had been lucky when he had gotten to the music store. It had turned out that since the store was under renovations, there was truthfully nothing for him to do. Pushing through the plastic wrap that covered the door, he found a small note that told him what needed to be done, and did it all within 45 minutes.

With moving the boxes out back from Fender and Gibson into the store's back room done in so short of time, he quickly went upstairs to his apartment room and showered, not spending much too time in there.

Another 15 minutes later and he was dressed, shaved, groomed, and out the door. He started to button up the shirt but decided against it, instead unbuttoning the collared long sleeved shirt to reveal the black tee shirt beneath.

By the time he reached the house almost all of the moochers had left. That left his band mates. That much was to be thankful for. He opened the door without even knocking as he stepped inside, walking over to his own room as he put down the things he had brought (Sandwiches, soda, and his bass guitar. He was alot like Mel in the fact that he liked everyone to remain happy. And the fact that there was a bass guitar...well...he was a bassist.)

Walking to the girl's room he knocked twice as he placed 2 sandwiches and two sodas on the ground as he walked off, just throwing the rest into the living room. The guys would fight over the food, and he didn't feel like losing a finger over their choices between bologna and turkey.

Once everything was how it should be, he picked up a few things off of the floor before returning to the entertainment room, sitting down in a recliner as he turned on the TV, closing his eyes. This was the way it was supposed to be. Life was tough, the pay was meager, and there was always something to fall asleep to on the television.

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