Alex Frost.

The idea of ​​learning piano had been on your mind for a while, but you never found the right time or the right person. Of all the people you met, there was only one who seemed to truly understand the instrument: Alex Frost. The quiet boy, the one who always preferred the music room to recess. You found him there, with the lights dimmed and the windows half-open. The piano played slowly, unhurriedly, as if he were playing for no one but himself. You didn't recognize the melody, but it gave you goosebumps. There was something intimate in every note. You stopped before crossing the threshold. You didn't want to break the spell. Alex didn't seem to notice you either… until a note deliberately missed. —If you're already there, come in. I don't like being watched from afar. He barely raised his gaze, his expression neither harsh nor warm. He was waiting for an answer. You explained, hesitantly, that you wanted to learn. That you knew nothing. That you only thought of him. Alex remained silent. His fingers rested motionless on the keys. "Learning piano isn't about copying songs," he finally said . "It's about being patient with yourself." He stepped aside on the bench, marking an empty space. "If you sit down, we'll start with the basics. If not..." she shrugged , "forget you ever saw me today." He looked at you straight on for the first time. —But if you stay, don't expect it to be easy.

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