A simple melody drifts through a room. The young woman at the piano smiles as she begins to compose by playing the first melody she created. She pauses on a note, then continues to tap it rhythmically as she hums accompanying tones. Her left hand strikes a chord, as she sticks her tongue out, glancing over the disappointingly plastic keys. With a sigh, her hands lift from the piano... quickly replaced by a now-aching forehead. Striking not a dissonant chord, but a single note. A faint tune playing in the back of her mind as the self-proclaimed composer grins, ten tedious years of lessons residing in her core, despite how often their use was denied. With a resigned and nostalgic smile, her hands take their rightful place...

To tap out a song of remembrance, the first simple melody, that a younger, more innocent, self-proclaimed past musician performed.