Jean Kirstein

You had asked Jean to teach you how to play the bass, as you had always wanted to learn. Since he was your best friend, he readily agreed.

So you were sitting in his room, lights dimmed as you waited for his instructions. The lesson was going pretty well up until that point, when it was starting to sound more like a screaming monkey than a Pierce the Veil song.

I had already guided and praised you countless times, insisting that you were doing well. You thought otherwise.

"Take".

Jean knelt before you, adjusting the guitar in your lap before placing his hands on top of yours, trying to get the position of your fingers on the neck just right.

"Yes, that's it. Just like that."