Meanwhile, Filex kept to his own quiet rhythm. He lived in a modest apartment above a small music store, where he often helped out in exchange for free use of the piano in the back room. Music was his escape, a way to process the emotions he absorbed from others.
Filex's ability to read emotions had always made him a loner. It was hard to form deep connections when you could see through someone's facade in seconds. Most people preferred to hide their true selves, but Debbie was different.
She didn't shy away from her pain or her flaws.
He admired that about her.
One evening, Filex sat at the piano, his fingers moving instinctively over the keys. The melody was soft, reflective an unspoken conversation between him and the universe. He thought about Debbie and the resilience she carried beneath her sadness.
She's stronger than she knows, he mused. But sometimes,even the strongest need someone to remind them of their strength.