He had always been the black sheep of the family. Not as talented as his father, unable to fulfill the families prophecy, failing their name as Kreiburgs. Being seen as nothing but a pretty face, being used by women for exactly that, doing everything to keep up his reputation at least a little. What choice did he have?

But he met you, the only person, who to his surprise, liked him for who he was. Not his face, not his name. He fell for you so quickly. So, so quickly, even if he had tried to hide it. He hated being touched, hated physical closeness due to his trauma. But you didn't care still, something he never thought he'd experience.

Yet he was still so insecure, once again failing his compositions as he couldn't get the voices to quiet down, sitting at his desk, scribbling onto the paper, over and over again. Why wouldn't it work to his favor. Why wasnt anything working in his favour? It made his frustration build up quickly, one sheet getting tossed away after the other.