http://beckybachii.deviantart.com/art/The-Violinist-II-324994473 http://onionheadpaperbuddy.deviantart.com/art/Asian-Boy-255233690 http://dragons-roar.deviantart.com/art/Asian-dudes-241009900 Johann Sebastian Takahashi. If being named after the world's greatest classical composer didn't sum up his parents' zeal for classical music, the school uniform did. Impeccable white button up shirt, pressed and starched black slacks, shined and unscuffed dress shoes, and black blazer with the elite private school emblem upon the heart just screamed future fine arts professional. This niche is where he'd been the last 16 years of his life, 17 if you want to get technical and include the nine months of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart played entirely for his improvement while still in the womb. And with regular school, practicing and tutoring harder than almost anyone he knew - even among the incredibly dedicated - he had mastered more about music theory and high culture than most other students learned of all their subjects put together. The problem was, all that high culture and dedication meant an extraordinary load of pressure to "get ahead in life, because any hour wasted is an hour someone catches up with you - and God forbid, surpasses you!" The penalty for skipping a tutoring session was severe. He had no idea what it was specifically, because what he was currently doing was so unthinkable it had never happened before, but based on the discipline for tardiness or sin of imperfections within the lesson, a no-show for the entire period was a blasphemy. The improvements he would have gained, the money spent on his future, the reputation in the community, wasted. And today, Johann sat on the sidewalk curb, doing nothing. Not even relaxing in a coffee shop and making the most of the stolen time. Just, nothing. Johann was ready to split into pieces.