What the hell?
Roger stood, guitar cradled in hand. Who...? He made tentative steps towards the edge of the fire escape, glanced down and saw a beautiful girl on the fire escape below. Fuck! Roger walked backwards so fast that he slammed into the window a little.
He swallowed, looked at the sky. I should go...inside... He hadn't realized anyone was listening, damnit, he wouldn't have played if... He shouldn't play... but then...
His hands grasped the guitar and slowly moved over the strings, playing a little of Muzetta's waltz despite himself... after all, he was a performer first and foremost. And he couldn't resist when asked.
God, what are you doing? Roger stopped playing, glanced down though he couldn't see anything with the platform in the way, and turned back into the loft, trying to get that beatiful face he'd seen for half a second out of his head.