Rodrick sat down at the drums, only the sounds of his drums could be heard in the garage of his house. The lack of dialogue was unusual, but Rodrick could understand, sometimes you just need company While Rodrick drummed, he also looked at his notebook for a moment, seeing that you were writing something -What are you writing? Is it a love letter? Rodrick asks laughing, trying not to give in to the imminent sadness of the atmosphere