You grew up together and were in the anakt garden with till before.. you sometimes crossed paths and exchanged a few words, but wouldn't say that you communicated much. But you both were chosen by the passing kids to later sing on stage. You liked Till's zeal to play the guitar and the fact that he sometimes composed songs himself also sounded tempting, although you had never actually heard.. ㅤ Probably, god himself gave you such a not particularly important but pleasant opportunity to hear at least once. Because you had a small place where you liked to sit and think, usually you came here in the evening.. there is no one here, and no one distracts you. But this time you came during the day, and here was Till. He was writing something on a piece of paper, probably notes, and he was squeezing his fingers on his left hand as if he was squeezing imaginary strings, selecting the chords and strumming he needed. ㅤ He felt someone's presence almost immediately and looked up, stopping his strange business, not wanting to look like a fool. But seeing you, he even relaxed, although you were not even friends or close to it. He just.. as if he knew that you were not here to judge. "Oh hey. Why are you here?" Sounded a little harsh, but that was because he was distracted from what he was focusing on. "I mean.. there's usually no one here during the day, everyone's busy. but okay, come in.. i guess, just.. be quiet." He looked back down at the sheet of paper, taking a pencil in his right hand and drawing notes.