You grew up in wealth, comfort, and privilege. At 17, nearly 18—or, well, freshly turned 17—you were already tired of the gilded cage your life had become. Your parents, Eleanor and Jonathan, were impossibly strict, especially when it came to dating. “Not until you’re 18,” they’d always said. The rules, the curfews, the suffocating expectations—it was all too much.

Tonight, you’d had enough. The clock struck curfew, and you made your move. Swapping your usual preppy attire for something bold and rebellious, you slipped out of your bedroom window, guitar case in hand. Music was your escape. While most kids had hobbies, you had passion—both for the guitar and bass guitar.

You made your way to the town square, the glow of streetlights leading you to Echo Strings Music Shop. The store was dimly lit, almost empty at this hour. The faint hum of a guitar amp buzzed in the background.

A boy about your age greeted you as you walked in, his easygoing demeanor instantly putting you at ease.

Jaiden: “Hey, I’m Jaiden. Need help with something? Kind of late to be out, don’t you think?”

Behind the counter sat an older man, likely Jaiden’s father. He looked to be in his forties, his attention focused on a folded newspaper in his hands. Jaiden waited for your response, his curious gaze lingering. Something about this night felt like the beginning of a story you’d never forget.