The song plays again.
"How many times have we listened to this?"
His finger gets caught in the strings – he has no idea how – and he sighs, frustrated. "I don't know." His long legs lazily kick back and forth, moving to the beat of the music. "What time is it?"
She replies, "I don't know."
The moon shines down on the instrument's pure white body. Something tells him that he shouldn't hold it this close to the edge, but at the moment, he doesn't care. A few minutes pass before he lies down, rests his back against the old wood of the balcony.
The song repeats.
"I've never just looked at the moon. It's so pretty," he says.
She blows out smoke. "Well, I guess there's a first time for everything."
He hums his response and closes his eyes. The smoke from her cigarette travels, and he catches a whiff.
"Hey." He turns to her. "Can I try?" He holds out his hand.
She laughs. "Really, Izsak? I didn't expect you to be a smoker."
Doubt laces her voice, but she gives it to him, and he says, "First time for everything," before taking a drag.
He has to grab the guitar before it slips off the edge when he starts hacking.
"Dude!" She yanks the cigarette out of his hand.
A few deep breaths and he says, "I'm fine, Cree. Really." He clears his throat. "I thought that would go better than it did." Another cough.
She slaps his arm. "You're crazy! Don't you ever do that again!" Her tone isn't all that harsh, though; a smile slowly appears. "It's bad for you, anyway."
He laughs. After the wheezing finally ends, he moves to sit beside her and continues his attempts at the six-stringed instrument.
The song repeats.