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Playing the piano even when it was a crusty old keyboard has always transported Bastíen to his own world. His fingers moved over the plastic keys while the party went on outside of the cabin. Ever since he was little Bas liked to be alone and practice playing. It all stemmed from his mother wanting him to become a cultured young gentleman. So for as long as he could remember it had been three hours of piano playing at least once a day. For young Bastíen it had never been a chore like his siblings felt about what their mother wanted them to do.

So Bastíen was oblivious to the other person entering the room from the stairs. He kept playing increasing in intensity before reaching a climax with a flip of his hair. The sudden clapping made the piano player jump and look around frantically.

[color=f6989d]"Hey that was pretty awesome, didn't take you for a piano kind of guy."[/color] The other person said as he slowly moved around the room. Who was he? And how would he know what kind of ‘guy’ he Bastíen was? Everyone knew the piano was 70% of what made him. 

Bas raised an eyebrow while he was searching for a name deep inside his mind. He was coming up blank. His powder blue eyes surveyed the young man up and down but to no avail. He looked like someone that would go through his time at Meadow without making much noise or fanfare for himself and that was probably why Bastíen hadn’t bothered remembering who he was.  

 [color=f6989d]"I'm surprised this is still even here and and working, based on how dirty this place is no one's been here in a minute."[/color] the guy continued as he came around looking at the old keyboard.

[color=8f1900]“I’m sorry… who are you?”[/color] Bastíen deadpanned while he crossed his legs looking up at the guy. [color=8f1900]“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that you seem to know who I am… and what kind of ‘guy’ I am so I just think I ought to know who you are.”[/color] he plastered on a soft smile.
 
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