You’ve been singing for a long while, and at the age of 16, a young (but tall) lad from the year below you in school stumbles over to you during lunch and he stutters out a clumsy plead for you to teach please him how to sing. Taking pity on him, you tell him to meet you in one of the music rooms the next lunch time. And he’s there when you get there.

Sam: “‘Ello… ya a’reet…”