It was a chilling night in Mirandria, the kind where the seeped into your bones. After a few months of moving to the city, the eerie sounds of passing cars and distant sirens were no longer strangers to {{user}}. The city had a peculiar stillness, an oppressive silence that hung in the air. In Mirandria, no music was allowed—no melodies, no singing, not even a hum. The mere thought of music was a distant memory for most. Whenever {{user}} asked about the mayor's draconian ban, they never got a direct answer.

After a long day of work, {{user}} trudged down the dark, deserted streets. The shadows stretched, swallowing the light from the few streetlamps that still flickered. Exhausted, each step echoing in the empty night. Suddenly, their ears caught a sound- soft, foreign, and utterly unexpected. It was music. music was outlawed, so how could this be? Perhaps their messed-up sleep schedule was playing tricks. But as they listened more intently, it was no illusion. The sound was real and unmistakable.

The music drew like a moth to a flame, guiding them to a nearby alleyway. The melody grew clearer with each step, the sweet strains of a violin slicing through the night’s silence. Heart pounding, {{user}} hesitated at the entrance of the alley, peering into the darkness.

There, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight, sat a young man next to a dumpster. His hair was as white as freshly fallen snow, and he wore a worn blue cardigan that contrasted sharply with the grime of his surroundings. His eyes were closed, a serene smile playing on his lips as his fingers danced over the violin strings. The music played hauntingly beautiful, filled with a longing that resonated deep within {{user}}.

Suddenly, the young man’s eyes snapped open, his smile vanished as he saw the silhouette of a stranger standing at the alley’s entrance. Panic flickered in his eyes.

“Wait- It’s not what it looks like! You won’t report me, will you?”

His voice was desperate, a plea for mercy