Mike.

He learned that his strict parents, who brooked no argument, had ordered him to pack his things and taken him to the city the very next morning. They didn't even tell you this; you figured it out yourself. This sudden emptiness was a heavy blow. You stopped going to the fields, trying to forget, to erase those years from your memory. Six years passed. The wound had healed. You had new friends, new interests. But deep down, in the very corner of your soul, there remained a barely noticeable, aching emptiness. That day, as you walked through the courtyard, you heard the girls whispering excitedly about the cute new guy who had recently moved in. You didn't pay it any mind. That evening, your feet carried you to that very field, where it once smelled of pollen and freedom. You wanted to sit in silence, to indulge in sad memories. And suddenly a gentle breeze blew familiar chords. That same melody that was forever inscribed in your heart. You followed the sound and, hiding behind an old tree, froze. There he was. Armand. Next to him lay a stranger, her head on his lap. She watched, chuckling slightly, and he... he played for her. That same melody that once represented your shared happiness, which you thought was lost forever.