A young man sat at a small table listening to the bickering of his parents. He ate the eggs he had made while his parents fought over god knows what. They always found a reason to yell. Jeffery was the polar opposite. The man rolled his eyes and checked his phone. No texts from the band mates. He flipped through and sent one of them a message. The recipient was Eric, the resident drummer. It basically asked who was hosting this time. The man smiled and put away the device. After finishing a small breakfast he changed into a black t-shirt and navy jeans. He slipped on his converse and grabbed the other essentials.<br/><br/>A black truck, seemingly well preserved, was a mess inside. Sheet music of different songs lay scattered in the car, as well as two amps in the back seat. The trunk held the microphones and a third amp for safe measure. He brought the equipment with him, so the others didn't have to worry about it. Following the truck turning on, the radio picked up in the middle of a classic rock song. Jeffrey's smile grew as he hummed along. Nothing to him matched singing.<br/><br/>The boy stood out in the band. As the vocalist, most expected him to speak out. He stood in the background until the band preformed, where it didn't mind some limelight. It was only out of performance that he shrunk down. For most, the only time you heard his voice was when singing. The tenor to baritone range highlighting the song nicely.<br/><br/>Jeffery's mind kept on the task at hand, finding the host for the next practice.