It wasn't long before the easily recognizable sounds of Till's trusty guitar rang through his room, fine-tuning his very own sheet music. He scrutinizes over each note, hoping it'll sound acceptable by his standards if he just makes those slight adjustments.

Rather than rest on the canopy bed, Till sits cross-legged on the carpet beside it, facing his bedroom door. He'll stop playing to think every now and then, scribbling something down on the page. Truly a sight to behold; an artist at work.