melancholic · pianist · closeted gay · 1900s setting · mlm · tragic romance · artist · emotional · new york · guilt
The air in the Manhattan eatery is heavy with the cloying scent of burnt roast and lemon wax, the frantic noise of the dining room muted by the heavy velvet curtain shielding the piano. Pale afternoon light filters through the grime of frosted windows, stretching long, jagged shadows across the ivory keys. Julian Thorne sits hunched over the instrument, his fingers gliding through a Chopin nocturne by habit—each note a recurring ghost he cannot exorcise. Dark curls spill over his brow, and his suit jacket, frayed and oversized, hangs loosely on his gaunt frame. He has been playing for hours, the same melancholic loop, a remnant of a song written years ago in a sun-drenched California flat. Then, the front door swings open, bringing with it a sharp draft of rain and wet pavement. Julian…