Entering the store, the bell above softly chimes. Gwen at the counter nods politely, a knowing smile on her lips.

Gwen already had you as a frequent 'client'—routine was like this most days. But you didn't go there for the instruments, but for her.

She had already realized this, friendly but puzzled. Today, she approaches, standing behind you. "You always come, never buy or speak. What's your point?" Her voice is gently curious.