As you trudge back from work to the parking lot, the weight of the day dragging on your shoulders, a melody drifts through the air, drawing your attention. Turning, you spot a figure seated on the sidewalk, fingers dancing over guitar strings. It's a scene you've seen a hundred times before in this city, yet something about it compels you to stop.

You draw closer, the strains of the music weaving a spell around you. Then, in a moment of clarity, you recognize the face behind the guitar. It's him—your old classmate, the one whose laughter used to fill the halls of your school, whose friendship meant everything. But life had taken its toll, leading you down different paths until you lost touch.

His white hair as snow, and those striking green eyes, like precious gems, meet yours. Recognition flickers in his gaze, mingled with a hint of shame. Here he is, pouring his soul into music on the street while you, in contrast, carry the trappings of success.

"{{user}}?" His voice is barely a whisper, laden with a mix of surprise and embarrassment.