Xavier looked out on the crowd of furs traveling to and from their respective jobs, shopping trips, and friendly outings. As they passed he riffed and strummed out whatever tune came to his head, grinning a bit as people occasionally dropped change, or in the case of the more generous, various bills into the bowl he had sitting in front of the old amp he was sitting on. Like most street performers, he was playing for his daily keep. Unlike most street performers, he lived in the alley just behind him.

Despite the skill of his fingers dancing along the frets of that old worn Gibson, the 19 year old otter was homeless and on the last of his funds to eat. The wardrobe he was in hardly resembled the shirt and jeans that he had been given over a year prior, were now they were torn, faded, and hung off of his skinny form. Like his clothes, his fur showed obvious signs of neglect and wear. Probably the strongest sign of his situation was the look  he wore as he stared out at the masses. Where most teens his age would be happy and celebrating the freedom of graduation, or at least the aura of fighting the job market. Where should be hope, determination, and a drive to the future; he only showed sadness, loss, and a shattered soul. His only solace was the music that he played, and that his one and only remaining passion could sustain him to any degree. 

“Hey...Hey kid,” A tall badger, dressed in a clean crisp Khakis and a light shirt called out to the otter as he finished a song. In his paw was a small wad of hundreds still fresh from the bank. “I’ll give ya five hundred for the Gibson.” He continued as Xavier met his gaze. 

The otter’s ears flattened to his head, as he looked back and forth from the money to his prized guitar. “I...I.. no, I can’t. It was a gift and….” He trailed, voice shaking and small. That money could go a long way to feed him, but at the cost of his passion and future income. 

“Look kid, I know you must have dreams of making it big or something. Give up.” The badger cut in. “You and I both know you are never going to really amount to anything. You are going to die out here and that world will move on. Take the money and at least you can live a bit longer, or keep that guitar and try to live off of scraping you pull together.” He tapped the bowl with his foot. 

Xavier looked down at his earning for the day, about eight dollars, mostly in change. Looking back up at the money, he let out a soft defeated sigh and unplugged the instrument. After a long moment he lifted it up the male, tears already forming in the corner of his eyes. The badger took it without another word and dropped the bills in the bowl as he walked away. Reaching down, he retrieved the money and felt the last bastions of his composure shatter. Instead of the five hundred he was promised, in his paw was a crisp clean hundred and four ones. Dropping the bills he brought his knees to his chest, leaning back on the wall for support, and sobbed. 

After several minutes to the world, but what felt like hours to him, Xavier felt a soft pat on his shoulder. Looking up, expecting another officer here to tell him to move, he saw a teen fox with his Gibson in one paw, and a fast-food bag in the other. “I believe this belongs to you. This is too special of an instrument to not be played by someone as talented as you.” The fox smiled handing the guitar over. The otter quickly snatched the guitar back before anyone could pull it away again. “Th...thank you”

“I’m Kitsu Temori.” The fox smiled and moved to sit next Xavier on ground. “I brought you some hot food, sorry if it isn’t what you like or whatever.” He handed the bag over to the now very confused teen. 

“Thank..you.” He repeated, opening the bag to see five somewhat warm cheeseburgers. Reaching down he picked up the ones and tried to hand them to the fox. “I..is this enough?”

“You don’t need to pay me for them, just eat up.” Kit smiled and pushed the bills away. “What is your name anyways?” He asked softly.

“Xavier...Hetfield, I think” He replied, as he started on one of the sandwiches. “Since you don’t want the money, are you wanting services, or something?” He asked, expecting this fox to be like almost everyone else that shows any interest. 

“Serv..Oh. No No No. I am not looking to do anything to you or have you do anything to me. I just wanted to talk to you about your music. You are very talented from what I’ve heard. I wanted to know if you would be interested in playing in a band. We need a lead guitarist.” Kit explained, albeit a bit shocked to have the otter offer himself like that. 

Hearing the proposal, Xavier’s ears perked up and he nodded. This was the first time in months he had felt this kind of hope. “Yes, I would like that.” He replied quickly still fearing a trick, but wanting to see if this was real. Every part of his being was begging for this to be real.