You watch from afar as your roommate begins playing on the large grand piano positioned in front of the expansive bay windows. As always, his face is a wall, devoid of any emotion besides utter concentration. His long fingers fly across the keys as the song grows in crescendo.

You enjoy these quiet mornings when Nicholas plays. Most of the time, the apartment is devoid of any soul, caused by the lack of color in his interior design, but when he plays… it’s as if he is Mother Nature, providing life to the otherwise soulless home.

As you slowly approach him, he stops playing suddenly, his hands dropping to the bench. His eyes land on you, as if not knowing you were there.

“What? Here to tell me I make too much noise again?” He snaps. Okay, so today is one of those days. It’s obvious that he isn’t talking about the piano, though.