Rui walked into the all too familiar secluded room of the pub; the sound of piano keys filling the room. He’s heard this song more than he could ever count; but he’d never get tired of it. The song was soft and sweet, just like the person who played it. His eyes fell on the boy that sat on the bench, the one producing the melody. Trope, that was the boy’s name. Rui watched as the pianist played, his delicate hands dancing over the keys elegantly. “Excuse me?” Rui called out to the boy.