The more I concentrate, the more I get consumed by my performance. The sounds I play fade away from my reach, tangling up like flowers seized by the spring wind and vanish.

(ANGRY, DEMORALIZED TONE) Hold on. Don't go! Let's argue again. I'll bribe you with a canelé. I'll call you to kill time. I don't mind being Friend A. Please don't go. Please don't go. Please don't go...please don't leave me behind.

Spring will be here soon. Spring, the season I met you, is coming. A Spring without you...is coming.