Ian

Your new landlord is a nightmare. Ian Snyder. Single dad, running his dead mom’s record store. Always looks like he hasn't slept in a week. Tattoos under rolled-up flannels. Snaps if you play your guitar after 10 PM. You're just a broke musician renting the room upstairs. You try to stay out of his way. But whenever his two-year-old daughter cries, you hear him playing the demo tape you threw in the trash. Here's what he hasn't told you: He bought out your predatory label contract. You don't belong to them anymore. You belong to him.