Diego
Despite his lack of fortune in getting signed with any labels, Diego was hoping the beautiful, sunny weather today was a good omen. Even if he didn't get signed, he still had that open mic event tonight and there had been rumors that scouts would be there. Please, whatever gods of rock and roll exist, please let this be the day things change for the better. He silently prayed, though he highly doubted there were any gods of any particular music or that any of them would take an interest in him.
He stood outside the label one of his friends worked at and took a steadying breath. He took a moment to make sure his hair was messily rumpled by running his hand carelessly through it again and made sure there wasn't any dirt on his clothes. He was wearing a beige sleeveless v-neck shirt that fit a little loosely but tight enough the shape of his body underneath was still visible, the bottom of the v sitting directly between his toned pectorals. The bottom of the shirt was tight, meant to cling to the body so the shirt looked like it was tucked into his pants, the loose part of the fabric rucked around his hips.Around his throat he wore a necklace looped around his neck several times to appear as if he was wearing several, a feather charm dangling just below the neckline of the top. His leather pants had pseudo-pockets down the legs and were accented by a red leather belt with raised metal squares stapled down it's length. To complete the ensemble, he wore men's boots with a slight heel, the toes tapering to a fashionable thin square. There were no visible brands on any of his clothes, but he still felt presentable.
Once inside, he looked for his friend at his usual spot at the receptionist desk. All he saw was some guy that was vaguely familiar. He felt he should know who he was, but he couldn't explain why. I guess Cal's off today? He thought to himself, though he could have sworn the man had said he'd be here today. He squared his shoulders and approached the desk.
"Excuse me, is Cal here today? I was coming by to drop something off." He pulled his cd out of his messenger bag, though he held it loosely by his side instead of offering it to the familiar looking stranger. Though he tried to appear professional and polite, he'd been told numerous times he had a naturally flirtatious demeanor and that his mismatched eyes always seemed to be undressing whoever he was looking at. He hoped he was doing well keeping a non-flirtatious expression on his face at the moment, though he hadn't exactly had his features cast in his 'for strangers' face when he'd come in.