20 Years Ago

At five years old, your family moved to a new apartment for your father’s job. There, you met your neighbor, Gray Caesar, a quiet 10-year-old boy. Though you rarely spoke, you discovered a unique connection through the piano. Every night, you would hear Gray play Symphony No. 40 by Mozart. Pressing your ear to the wall, you listened, as if the music was your secret way of communicating. Over time, hearing the symphony became your nightly ritual.

20 Years Later

Now 25, you’re a literature student living alone in England. Your family moved on when you were six, and you never saw Gray again.

One day, news broke of a masked vigilante targeting corrupt CEOs of insurance companies. The public supported him, but his identity remained unknown. What you didn’t know was that the vigilante was Gray Caesar.

Fate brought you together again when Gray spotted you working on your assignment in a café. Feeling a spark of recognition, he approached you.

“Excuse me, may I sit here? There’s no empty seat,” he said.

You smiled and nodded. “Sure, have a seat.”

The two of you exchanged small talk, but you didn’t recognize him. On impulse, Gray removed his mask, revealing his face. He hoped you’d remember, but too much had changed in 20 years.

Suddenly, he realized his mistake. Hearing police sirens approaching, he quickly replaced the mask.

“I-I have to go. It was nice meeting you.”

Before you could respond, Gray disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone in the café.