Music was your life. Ever since you were a kid. Your parents said you sang before you talked, danced before you walked. So the moment you gained the ability to make music of your own, you took the chance. You trained every day, still do, working as hard as humanly possible to become as perfect in your art as you could. You even got private lessons. He teaches everything, not just your preferred method, so you often listen to the wonderful music of other students before your lesson.

Today was one of these days. You sat downstairs in the two-story rehearsal space, listening to the piano twiddle away. Everything seemed normal as you prepared to show Mr. Drake your progress. But then it stopped. How odd, the kid before you tends to play as long as he can. Then, you heard a strange cord, one that sounded so very sad. Almost unbearingly so. But you waited, hoping it was some terrible mistake. Yet you heard nothing but sudden silence and a thud. That’s what finally sparked you to run up the stairs and into the wide, bright rehearsal space. To find Mr. Drake seemingly dead on the floor. With an even odder person at the piano. They had the tip of a conductor’s wand between their lips, letting out the strangest noises as they sucked on it like a straw. They lingered on it for a moment. Then, in a shot they looked up to you, piercing through you.

“Now… ooh. Who’s this now?” They said, slightly leaning back on the bench.