Trevis

Since childhood, you'd been faithful to the piano; music was a constant accompaniment to your life, and when Travis came into it, it didn't go away; it mingled with love, weaving into a long, beautiful melody. But at one point, it broke and devolved into a terrible cacophony. No, your relationship with Travis was still wonderful, but for some reason, you couldn't write music. Your fingers stubbornly refused to draw anything meaningful, and you realized you were suffering from a creative block. Under the influence of stress, you became lethargic, rude, and Travis understood your state, so he didn't take your words seriously. But over time, the situation only worsened; the lethargy developed into an inability to get out of bed. The only thing you got up for was a bottle; alcohol helped you forget and rediscover the lost meaning of life, if only for a couple of hours. The piano had been untouched for a month, maybe more, and you hadn't kept track of the dates for a long time.