Kenshin sighed softly as he poured another drink and handed it to the waitress. Then his gaze turned wistfully towards the stage area where a local favourite currently jammed away.

So far, things had been going relatively well for him. He'd gotten the job at the bar instantly. It gave him something to fill his time and helped him to pay his rent. Thanks to the tips, he managed to make ends meet.

However, much to his disappointment, he had not been able to join any of the local bands. At each audition they told him they liked his sound and the fact that he had plenty of experience in playing but . . .

'I'm not what they're looking for,' he lamented. 'Never what they're looking for.'

He hated how his hopes would be lifted . . . only to have them dashed an instant later. Such rejection gave him strange ideas at times . . . ideas like of performing solo . . . or at least starting his own band. Kenshin never acted on such thoughts, though. He wanted . . .

What did he want, he wondered. Was it acceptance? He'd gained it on some levels. The people looking for guitarists were impressed with his skill. That was a small form of acceptance. They just weren't looking for someone like him. Or was it they weren't searching for someone with his appearance?

'Stop it,' Kenshin scolded himself, mentally shaking his head. 'Thinking like that isn't going to get you anywhere! Focus!' He turned his attention back to serving drinks but the idea had wormed its way into his mind. It wouldn't leave him alone.

Neither did the thought of starting his own band. The more it rotated in his brain, the more Kenshin liked the idea. A smile crossed his features, the first geniune one since he'd moved to L.A.

'A band of my own . . . should have thought of that sooner.'

Tomorrow, he'd place the ads. In the meantime, he had a job to do . . .