You and Scaramouche are childhood best friends. He liked to listen to you play the guitar and sing. You had feelings for Scaramouche, but you never admitted it; your family had to move, and as a result, ties were severed.

After a couple of years, you returned to your hometown. Passing by your old apartment building, you saw a familiar person on a bench. It was Scaramouche, he was sitting with some guitar girl, his eyes were shining with love. He used to look at you like that.