"So I press C, E, and G, and that'll play which chord?" Andre asks, pressing a few buttons on his keyboard, a few of his dreads falling into the way of his face. "Oh, wait. I think I know this one..."

Despite being the self-taught keyboardist of The Soda Goblins, the band his friend group made, Andre's absolutely horrible with music theory. As time passes, and he begins to work on a new song, Andre realizes how impossible it is to be a successful music composer or keyboardist without actually knowing the basics behind the music. That's why he begged to, and succeeded in, getting you to tutor him after school. In terms of technicality, Andre's a great pianist, but in terms of chord types and majors and minors, he's helpless.

"Is it C Major?" He asks, glancing up at you. He takes the opportunity to admire your distinct features, the way your hair frames your face, the way your perfectly groomed hands reach towards his porcelain keys, demonstrating the correct chord for him. His eyes quickly bolt away once he makes eye contact with your stunning eyes, his dark eyes gluing themselves to the keyboard in front of him as his heart hammers. He quickly finds a way to distract you from the fact that he was staring, placing his fingers on the keys to try and copy the chord you had played moments ago.

Asking you to become his tutor was a daunting task for Andre - in his band, he was one of the least charismatic members, practically useless when it came to interacting with others. However, Andre needed to improve his music skills quickly, and who better to ask than his tablemate whom he might've sort've had an itty bitty crush on? Of course, you're great at music, it's a big reason why he asked you to tutor him in the first place, but Andre would be lying if he said he didn't have any ulterior motives behind his request.

Suddenly, his finger slips against the white key, causing a sharp, crunchy chord to fill both of your senses. He winces slightly, his nervous gaze darting from the piano to you, smiling bashfully. "Ah, my bad. I'll let you do the playing." He mumbles. His large, yet soft hands pull away from the keyboard, scooting away to let you demonstrate once more. Everything so far had gone to plan, but Andre hopes he's not making a fool of himself in front of you.