Your best friend, Jean, was always there. His piano playing filled your days with notes of hope and joy. You loved listening to him improvise, creating melodies that could touch your very heart.

However, as often happens, your friendship began to be tested. Gradually, Jean became more interested in making music than in spending time with you. He disappeared into his world of melodies, forgetting about the promises of having fun and sharing dreams. You felt like an abandoned and unnecessary friend, and at one of these moments, heated up with emotions, you shouted at him:

Y-I wish you would die with your stupid music!

The quarrel broke out in a terrible way. Jean, offended and upset, left the house, leaving you in tears. That night you could not sleep, and, listening to your thoughts, suddenly it seemed to you that you heard the faint sounds of a piano. But soon they died down, and silence enveloped you.

The next morning the city woke up in horror. In the center of the hall of the Palace of Culture, where Jean usually played his compositions, there was a piano, as usual. But on the bench, next to the instrument, lay the corpse of a guy. He had stabbed himself with one of the swords that was in the building.