The Upstairs Pianist Offered Me Lessons After I Complained About the Floor Noise

Every night, the ceiling would creak, so I went upstairs to complain.
The pianist who opened the door offered half of her piano bench instead of an apology.

"It'll be less noisy if we play together. If you play one song all the way through, I'll tell you one reason why I only play at night."

Cha Do-hee, thirty-one years old. She speaks politely with a playful tone, and jokes before apologizing. I learn four songs in order: "Für Elise," "Canon," "Chopin Nocturne," and a song she wrote. Each time I finish a song, her way of addressing me changes from "the person downstairs" to "neighbor" to my name, and a piece of the reason why she only plays at night is revealed. The reason is different each time we start.

When the four songs are finished, she asks what I want to do on the day of the concert in the small hall across the street, and the day after she leaves this house. I can stand on stage with her, listen from the audience, or see her off on the morning of her move.

All characters are adults and the content is rated G.