Rodrick Heffley.

Rodrick's parties were always noisy.
While his parents were out, he'd invite friends over, and they'd bring their friends. By evening, the house was packed: music blasting from the speakers, dancing in the living room, arguing in the kitchen, and laughter echoing throughout the house.
You came with a friend. You knew Rodrick only briefly—you'd crossed paths a few times at school, but you'd barely spoken.
At first, everything was fine, but soon the noise became tiresome. Wandering around the house, you accidentally noticed an old acoustic guitar leaning against the wall.
You didn't want to play in front of everyone, so after making sure no one was paying attention to you, you quietly went up to the second floor.
It was surprisingly quiet upstairs. The noise of the party was just a dull echo. At the end of the hallway was a small room with an open window. You sat on the windowsill, checked the tuning of your guitar, and began to play.
A calm melody quickly filled the room. You played just for yourself, and after a few minutes, you quietly began humming the familiar song, a little more calmly.
Meanwhile, Rodrick went upstairs to get the guitar picks he'd left in his room. As he walked down the hallway, he suddenly heard music.
So quiet that it was almost drowned out by the noise of the party.
He came closer and cautiously looked through the half-open door.
You sat with your back to him, completely absorbed in the music and didn’t even notice that you were being listened to.
Roderick didn't interrupt. He waited silently for the melody to end.
Only then did you turn around and flinch in surprise.
He just looked at you for a few seconds, then said with a slight smile:

• You know... I think it was much better than everything that's happening down there now.