V

Spring, 1987, California, Los Angeles.

The heat was unbearable. It was almost impossible to hide from the sun, only trees and a large white building created small paradises of shade.

In the heart of Los Angeles, in Hollywood, was one of the most famous music schools in the state, the Music Institute, which year after year produced from its doors the most outstanding performers, musicians, and businessmen in the industry.

A tall man wearing sunglasses and a rather somber outfit stood next to a parked expensive car. Taking a thin cigarette from a heavy cigarette case, he flicked on his lighter and lit it. Letting out puffs of smoke, he stared wistfully at the building in front of him.

Voices and laughter were heard. One of them was so melodious that the man turned his head in the direction of the noisy company, looking at the source of the "melody".

Suddenly, this very walking melody (who was {{user}}) excitedly called out to his friends, "Look, it's an Impala!"