Andre sat cross legged on his bed in his hotel room. He had his eyes closed as he strummed on his guitar that sang silently as it was connected to no amp. The morning sun glowed in beams through the slightly opened shades and highlighted the smoke that danced up towards the ceiling from the ash-tray that held the butt of a blunt burning out at the bottom. He opened his eyes slightly to see the swirling shapes in the still air and he smiled. His muse was shining bright in his head this morning and he began writing poetry in his head, where an orchestra of instruments were accompanying him.<br/><br/>When he became aware of the world around him again he noticed the clock on his bedside table. From his experience this was the time of day most of his band mates would be waking up with their hang overs. He took one last puff off the sizzling blunt and put it out in the tray. Then he uncrossed his legs and slid to the edge of the bed, located his guitar case and put away his instrument. He stood up and stretched, scratching his belly, and headed for the door. He stopped before leaving, something having caught his eye. It was his Mouth Harp, sitting on the corner of the room's "desk". He picked it up and headed out the door letting it close and lock behind him.<br/><br/>As he walked down the hallway he brought the old Jews Harp to his lips and started twanging out a fun walking beat. The elevator door opened in front of him and he stepped into the large glass chamber. As the room descended he looked out over the dining area of the hotel and located Chloe filling her face. When the elevator doors opened he stepped out and made his way to Chloe's table taking a seat across from her. "Hey girl, how ya feelin today?" He asked, taking a quick survey of her awareness this morning, he had seen her worse.