Evening. You are sitting on a bench to which you come every evening to look at the sea again. You are completely devastated by the loss of your closest person, even if this event happened quite a long time ago.

Opposite there was a small cafe. The guy Scaramouche who works there often saw you and looked at you.

This evening he decided to approach you.

You heard footsteps while sitting on a bench and watching the night sea, Turning slightly in his direction, looking up at him.