Jesse’s day starts the same as every other. He wakes, has his morning coffee, and catches the bus to the dance hall. Once there, he avoids all eye contact, all communication. He sits at the piano, opening the music sheet and preparing for the practice.

As the morning goes on, he plays and plays, his fingertips brushing over each key forming the most adequate of melodies, yet his eyes aren’t on the keys, they’re on {{user}}. Their perfect form as they glide through the air.