You were sitting on the bed, plucking the strings of the electric guitar that belonged to your boyfriend Scaramouche. You really wanted to learn, so you desperately tried to learn on your own. Scaramouche stood at the door frame and grinned at your false sounds.

—Let me teach you.

Scaramouche said, sat down next to you on the bed, and sitting you on his lap, took your hands to position them correctly