Kurloz laid in bed for several hours, doing nothing more than staring at the ceiling and thinking. He was starting to feel better about everything, even about his and Meulin's relationship. He grabbed his phone, sending her a text that he was learning sign language, and that they could learn it together. A few minutes later he sat up, sending her another text simply saying "I have an idea."

He brought his laptop into his lap, looking up everything he could about how to help people who go deaf, including medical procedures to reverse it. He found a result that could work, and bookmarked the page. He spent a little longer reading about it before calling his dad about it. Usually, a call to his dad would be a last resort for anything, but this was important. The phone rang three times before, surprisingly enough, his dad answered, instead of one of his assistants or a secretary. He was never quite sure of what his dad actually even does, but that didn't matter at the moment. He outright asked his father for money. His father, obviously taken aback by the sudden request, asked him what for. Kurloz explained the situation with Meulin, and his desire to fix what he had fucked up. His father then asked a question he hadn't quite thought about.

"How severe is her hearing loss? Is it so bad that it would warrant something so drastic? I'm not going to pay that much if the problem can be handled with only hearing aids. On top of that, if you think it's you're fault it happened, you should be the one to pay, right? I'll still chip in, but I'm not going to pay all the way through. You think about that, I've got to get back to work. Talk to you soon, kid."

Kurloz hung up after wishing him a good day at work. Deep down, past the part that knew his dad was a good guy, he was disgusted with him. He knew most of it was a facade. The whole "talk to you soon" line was just a formality to him. His father used to have him and Gamzee purposefully call him at work so he could get sympathy during meetings.

He did raise a good point though. Looking at his phone, he noticed Meulin still didn't text him back. Opening up the contacts menu, he picked the one that had Meulin's mom's number, calling her to ask about it instead. She picked up right away, just like Meulin would.

"Hi Mrs. Leijon. How are you?"

"Hello sweetie, I'm fine. Are you calling for Meulin?"

"More like I'm calling about her, I've got something I'd like to ask you."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Back at the hospital, did you ever find out how severe Meulin's hearing loss is?"

"We were told it was moderate. Not to bad, she can probably hear a little but it most likely sounds really muffled and hard to decipher. He said it could be at least somewhat helped with only hearing aids, but we don't have insurance or enough money at the moment to set aside to get that done for her, and she said she can handle being without for a little while, so we haven't done anything about it."

"How about I help pay for it?"

"Oh honey you don't need to do that. That's nice of you to offer though."

"No, I want to at least help. How much would it cost?"

"Let's see, I've got it written down here somewhere. Here it is, I did a little research, and the pair that would be right for her would cost around eight hundred dollars."

"Oh wow... I'll still help. Would you ask Meulin to text me back when you get the chance?"

"No problem, she's been sleeping all day. I'll talk to you later, Kurloz."

"Have a good day, Mrs. Leijon."

Checking the time, it was only a quarter after two in the afternoon. There was still plenty of time to get ready and head out to his normal spot before rush hour. What day was it even? His phone said it was Monday. School had been the furthest thing from his mind, maybe he should go soon. After his bruises heal up, he told himself as he gathered his things, setting up shop in the bathroom and getting ready to leave.

It was just after three when he got to the plaza. He sat in his corner, though it was the time of year that the fountain was turned off. It was getting colder out; he had had to add a jacket and hat to his outfit to stay warm, though his jacket didn't go too well with his outfit. The color was fine, a light gray with minimal graphics on it, it was more because he was wearing a zip-up hoodie with dress clothes. His clothes themselves now seemed too big for him, he felt like his makeup was too fitting for how he looked. He hoped no one else thought of him as a walking skeleton.

Kurloz lifted his cello from the case, beginning to check and make sure the strings were still tuned. It felt weird to not have any fliers displayed, especially since this was the time of year that all of the music programs at school had concerts. He had been away from school so long that he wouldn't be allowed to play in the one coming up for orchestra, and Meulin... well, he was going to change that.

He rubbed his hands together, warming them before he started to play. It may be cold out, but at least it was still nice enough for people to be walking around. The plaza itself was more just one big outlet mall, with various restaurants, a few that were family run, and a few other attractions so that they could stand a chance against the actual mall a few miles down the road. His spot was in the heart of the plaza, in front of the bookstore and near a few of the more expensive places. He didn't pick this spot because it was good for business, but because he could just sit on the ledge of the fountain. Fuck bringing a chair.

Taking a quick glance around, he decided he would play something simple. He hadn't gotten there in time to catch the people getting a late lunch, and was there too early to appeal to any kids from school just yet. He played a few slow songs, warming himself up for when business would start to pick back up.

He saw a group of kids, probably in middle school, walk into a store nearby just as he was finishing one of his slow songs. Taking this as his cue to play something else, he began to play "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" by Panic! At the Disco, hoping that would catch the attention of those just a little younger than him. Just after that he played "Counting Stars" by OneRepublic, gaining the attention of almost every teenager in the vicinity, along with a good amount of the younger adults. It continued this way, he would play all of the popular songs, and soon he drew a crowd. Not many had dropped money in his case, but he couldn't blame them. They weren't particularly interesting songs when played on his cello, but they were recognizable to those into pop culture.

The crowd dissipated as fast as it had gathered. The sun was going down, the lights in the square coming on before it was down entirely. It started snowing not too long after that. A feeling of hopelessness crashed over him when he saw there were only a few other people left outside besides himself. Kurloz shook his head as if he could shake the feeling away. Warming his hands again, he set back to playing slow songs. Families would be at dinner just about now, maybe he could earn a few dollars from them. He played some classics, he played some pop. He played anything he could remember how to.

His eyes slipped shut, just as they did whenever he would play the "climax" of a song. He could tell someone was close to him, even with his eyes still shut. He finally opened his eyes when the song came to an end, to see a little boy, probably no older than six years old, standing in front of him. A small crowd had formed as well, consisting mostly of families that had just finished dinner.

"Aren't you cold?" The boy asked.

"A little bit, but I don't mind it too much." Kurloz answered, smiling at him.

"Why are you here? Aren't you going to eat dinner with your family?"

"I messed something up, and I'm trying to earn some money to fix it."

"What did you mess up? Is it bad?"

"Honey, don't bother him." His mother lectures, walking up to retrieve her son.

"It's okay, ma'am. Not too many people stop to talk while I play, I don't mind it." Kurloz smiles up at her. "Would you mind if I answered his question before you leave?"

"What? Oh, I guess not. Sure."

"Thank you." He nods to her before looking back at the boy. "Something happened and I ended up crashing my car. My girlfriend was with me, and she got hurt and she can't hear anymore. That's what I messed up, and I guess it is pretty bad, huh?" He pauses, a sad smile on his face as he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. "I'm trying to get money so I can help her hear again. It's going to take a long time to get all the money, since it's getting cold so I won't get to be out here as much. She used to come out here with me sometimes, when I was still just doing it for fun. She's a really good singer, maybe you'll get to hear her sometime."

The boy nods, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a quarter and placing it into the cello case. He waved to Kurloz as he and his mother left, who waved back until the boy was out of sight. He went back to playing his cello, playing a slow song that seemed to convey what he was feeling at that moment. A song with long notes and a slow tempo, a song that would make people cry but they still seemed to smile through the tears. Several people who had been close enough to hear Kurloz's encounter with the boy came up not long after he started back up, dropping all sorts of bills into the case.

He played for another half an hour before he decided it was time to take a break. He was cold, his fingers were sore, and his back was stiff from sitting for so long. He set his cello against the edge of the fountain as he stood, stretching his back and arms. A young couple approached him while he did this, waiting patiently for him to finish.

"Hi. Did you want to request a song?" Kurloz asked as he sat back down, keeping eye contact with them.

"Not exactly. We came over to ask if you wanted something to eat. We were watching you from in the restaurant over there, and the waitress said you had been out here since she started her shift."

"Oh, no. I'm okay. Thank you, though."

"Are you sure? We could get you some coffee or something to warm you up."

"Actually, yeah, that would be nice. I should call it a night anyways, my brother might get worried if I'm out much longer."

"There's a nice little cafe in the bookstore, would you mind if we all sat in there?"

"That's fine. Just let me pack up real quick."

Kurloz sent Gamzee a text while he waited with the couple in line for the coffee stand in the cafe. He told his brother not to wait up for him before pocketing his phone. He studied the pair in front of him. The woman was a bit shorter than he was, and her hair was long and curly. The man was slightly taller than himself, with hair just long enough to get in his eyes, and a bit of scruff under his chin. They ordered their coffee, then encouraged Kurloz to order whatever he liked, though he ended up only getting a small cup of hot chocolate and a cookie. He followed them to where the tables were, sitting across from the two at the table they chose.

"So, do you live around here?" The man asks. He had been doing most of the talking so far.

"Yeah, just a few minutes away. What about you two?"

"We go to the college the next town over. We like to come out here because there's more locally owned business."

"How long have you been playing?" The woman chimes in, gesturing to Kurloz's instrument.

"Seven or eight years. Long enough to consider it as a career."

"How long were you out there today?"

"It's like eight now, right? About five hours. I don't mind though. I have a goal in mind at that kept me from getting too cold." Kurloz finished his sentence with a big drink of his hot chocolate, which he had let cool off while he talked. "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to get going soon."

"Alright, well, before you go, can I ask if you'd be willing to play at a party my parents are throwing? They'll pay you $400 to play through the party." The man asked, making Kurloz freeze up.

"When?"

"This Saturday. The last person they had had to bail, so it's a little short notice. They don't mind what you play, as long as you play at least four slow songs."

"Oh yeah, I can do that."

The man wrote out the address and what time to be there on napkin, handing it to Kurloz, who then left and went to his car.