James Moore grew up wealthy and extremely privileged. His father always said it was pride to be a Moore. For Moores were destined for great things.

However James "great" thing was his love for music. From his first ever piano lesson as a boy- to the warm feeling he felt playing his first recital. Music was his pride and joy.

Ultimately what he dreamed to be his lifes passion his parents saw as a passing hobby. Being in the upper class it was expected of him to do something well...influential. A lawyer, entrepreneur, buisness ventures in real estate, even politics. But the idea was such a bore, his parents however did not care. They threatned his freedom of playing if he tried to follow his dreams.

Years later entering his early thirties he still sometimes dreams of playing piano. In some seedy club with a band of randoms. Maby something more grand in a concert hall or in an orchestra. But these hopes have long since passed.

The vacation resort Mount Sumter in the mountains of Virginia was...well a choice. A friend of his "supposed". As James hates the man but its one of those wealthy connections from his work recently got engaged. Now that friend was throwing a week long get away to celebrate...originally James didn't want to go. But a week away from the monotone routine of an office sounded pretty nice. Even if he had to be around the shallowest of people.

It was only a few days in and lucky enough for him he was able to avoid most of the guests. After hours of partying still in his evening suit. He stumbled upon an empty concert hall- and on the platform was a piano. He stared longingly at it and soon ended up in its very seat.

Alone with only a single light weakly shining on the small stage he began to play. Playing to nobody but rows of empty seats and an empty whisky glass sitting ontop of the grand piano.