Nex stepped quietly into the instrumental room, where seasoned musicians were fussing over sheet music and tuning grand instruments. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and old leather, the notes of a violin gently lingering from earlier practice.
A low murmur rose as the older musicians noticed him. Many were well over fifty, some with streaked grey hair, hands calloused from decades of playing. One of them, a tall man with deep laugh lines and kind eyes, cleared his throat.
"Well… who's the young man?" he asked, stepping closer. "Ah, I see… you'll be our pianist tonight?"
Nex nodded politely, bowing slightly. "Yes, sir. I'll play tonight for the ceremony."
The man's eyes twinkled. "Well, you have our full attention. Don't worry about a thing — we'll support you." He reached out, lightly patting Nex on the shoulder. "You remind me of my grandson. Steady, calm… yet with something alive in your eyes. That's rare in young people today."
Nex's lips curved into a small, soft smile. "Thank you, sir."
Another musician, a petite woman with silver curls, leaned over a music stand and teased him gently. "Don't let our old men scare you. We may be ancient, but we still play with passion… sometimes more than you young ones!"
The room erupted in laughter. Nex chuckled quietly, feeling a strange warmth bloom in his chest. Even the teasing felt comforting, like the sort of family banter he hadn't realized he'd missed so much.
One of the older violinists began to play a short melody, slightly off-tempo, and another musician shouted teasingly, "Henri, not again! You'll ruin the harmony for the ceremony!"
The banter continued — soft jokes, playful nudges, laughter that echoed in the wooden room. Nex watched them, his gaze gentle, a small smile tugging at his lips. It reminded him of simpler days, of moments before the battles, before the pain, when laughter could exist without fear.
Then the tall man with kind eyes clapped his hands lightly. "Alright, alright. Enough fun. Young man, tonight you lead the music. We follow your hands."
Nex nodded, feeling the strange but comforting weight of responsibility. "I'll do my best."
"And we'll do our best alongside you," the man added warmly. "We may be older, but we've seen decades of music… we'll make tonight beautiful."
The musicians continued to chatter, teasing each other even as they adjusted instruments. Nex, feeling a tender sense of belonging, quietly helped arrange a music stand for a violinist who had dropped her sheet. He smiled more openly now, seeing the way these older people interacted — playful, patient, and full of care.
For a moment, Nex forgot about the lab, the battles, the heavy weight of being alone in his responsibilities. In this small room, surrounded by laughter, experience, and warmth, he felt… like himself again.
And as he quietly hummed along with the faint notes drifting from the violin, he thought, Maybe… even in this world, I can still protect beauty. I can still bring joy.
(Instrumental Room — Rehearsal)
Nex moved gracefully to the grand piano, fingers brushing the keys lightly. The older musicians watched him carefully, some skeptical at first, but as soon as he began to play, the room filled with a soft, ethereal melody that seemed to pull even the most distracted minds into focus.
The first thirty minutes passed in quiet rehearsal, punctuated by the occasional suggestion from the older musicians.
"Hold that chord just a fraction longer," one violinist murmured.
"Yes, let the sustain breathe before you move," another added, and Nex adjusted instinctively, nodding politely.
A petite woman with silver hair, her eyes soft and kind, suddenly leaned forward and ruffled his messy white curls. "There, there, young man. You play beautifully, but sometimes your hair is far too serious. Let it loosen a little!" she said, her voice teasing despite her age.
Nex blinked, slightly surprised, but then smiled. "Thank you, ma'am."
The tall man with laugh lines watched with amusement. "Ah, see? Even in old age, we know how to tease properly. She's showing you care in her own way."
The silver-haired woman shot him a mock glare. "Henri! Don't make me sound like I'm some soft old fool."
Nex chuckled quietly, feeling the warmth of their attention. The teasing wasn't cruel — it was affectionate, like a grandmother teasing her grandson, like family. He began to relax further, letting his music breathe even more freely.
Another musician handed him a sheet of music, which he glanced at, nodding as he absorbed the notes effortlessly. They continued to play together, the sounds weaving into a rich tapestry. The older musicians gradually began to match his tempo, their movements becoming lighter, more playful.
"Ah, he's incredible," one whispered under his breath. "Such poise… such presence."
At one point, the silver-haired woman gently stiffled his curls again, and Nex laughed softly, tilting his head toward her in gratitude. The tall man's deep chuckle filled the room. "I swear, you're lucky to have us teasing you, boy. Makes you human amidst all that talent."
By the end of the half-hour, everyone was smiling warmly, the rehearsal having transformed into more than just practice. They had grown closer to him, drawn in by his quiet charm, his polite demeanor, and the subtle strength in his music.
Nex himself felt lighter — the familiar ache of loneliness and battle tempered, replaced by something gentle, human, and healing. He looked around at the older musicians, each with their own quirks and warmth, and felt an unspoken bond forming.
Even in a world of chaos… there are still moments worth protecting.
The silver-haired woman, hair streaked due to her age winked at him. "You play like a dream, young man, but don't forget — a dream is better when shared with others."
Nex nodded softly, the corners of his lips lifting into a small smile.