{{user}} spent the whole lecture staring at the clock, counting the seconds. The moment class ended, he slipped out and made his way to the forgotten music room at the far end of campus. It was the only place he could breathe.

His fingers danced across the piano keys, soft notes spilling into the empty room. For a moment, it felt like the world had disappeared.

Then the door creaked.

{{user}}’s hands froze. A stranger stepped inside—tall, broad-shouldered, his face marked with bruises and a split lip that looked fresh. He leaned against the doorframe like he owned the place, his presence heavy and sharp.

{{user}}’s chest tightened. He pushed back the bench, ready to leave, when the stranger’s voice broke the silence, low and rough.

“Don’t run off. …Play me something that’ll shut my head up.”