It's so crowded in here

Quin: *would join too if he knew the song, but he doesn’t so he just listens with a small, sad smile on his face, gaze locked on the plate before him without seeing it . . . should complement them but…can’t bring himself to speak . . . and then he too is singing, eyes closed. The song is of a minstrel who “loses” his voice, loses his confidence, after meeting a woman in a tavern with a voice so beautiful that it could only be divine (“Amadea”) . . . and he’s a good singer too, /great/ in fact, voice rising and falling in expert modulations to evoke the maximum emotion and reaction at just the right times. It’s a song of loss without anyone dying, and it lets him grieve his own way, tears streaming down his face by the time he’s done. He’s quiet a moment, but not long enough for anyone to speak up before he stands, bowing to everyone at the table without looking at anyone* Excuse me. *if not stopped, he’ll…leave…just to get somewhere to be alone*