LOGINAnthony Seymour couldn't wrap his mind around it. He was the one who'd saved them. And yet, in the end, they kept pushing him away. They toyed with him using false confessions, treated him as someone else's stand-in, and left him gravely injured. He never got so much as a scrap of the good fortune he deserved. Instead, after one emotional wound too many, he developed a disorder that stripped away his ability to feel, and little by little, he lost all attachment to the world. Then, one day, Anthony made a decision. He would end his life, and when he did, he'd use his own organs to save seven others. That would be his final goodbye to the world. From that day on, he began searching for strangers who needed help, using death as his purpose and his method of choosing who to save. But once word got out, the very women who'd once hurt him came flooding back, begging him through tears not to die. Anthony, who'd already lost every last one of his emotions, only found it puzzling. After everything that had happened, he wondered—what were they even crying for?
View MoreThat particular day at lunch, Celeste had sent a message ahead of time to let him know she'd be running a little late.Anthony hadn't thought much of it. As usual, he made his way to the old, weathered upright piano and settled in to practice the new piece Celeste had assigned him.According to Celeste, someone with a bit of natural aptitude could reach an amateur advanced level with two or three years of steady practice.Anthony, meanwhile, had reached a professional-level standard in just two months.He didn't really feel much about that fact one way or another. With no other point of reference to compare himself to, he could only measure his own progress against Celeste's playing, and the gap between the two of them still felt impossibly vast.Even so, compared to how he'd played back when he'd first started, the progress he'd made since then was nothing short of enormous.At the very least, he could now tell the difference in tuning between different pianos.Take the one he
Anthony had no idea what he'd just pulled off was actually something remarkable.A complete beginner, someone who couldn't even read sheet music, had reproduced an entry-level intermediate piece almost note for note, relying purely on memory and an uncannily precise ear.If he'd told anyone, no one would have believed him.Right now, Anthony simply figured he must be one of those people with no real talent for it, and decided he'd never bother trying again.But just as he closed the lid and moved to push the bench back into place, a cool, clipped voice suddenly sounded behind him. "Is this your first time touching a piano?"Anthony's body went rigid, and cold sweat broke out instantly.He hadn't expected, in a million years, that Celeste would choose this exact moment to walk back into the room.Worse, she'd apparently just watched his clumsy little performance from start to finish.Anthony turned around slowly and bowed his head deeply. "Sorry, I...""Answer the question."C
The room itself was fairly tidy, though several rows of old, discarded desks and chairs had been stacked along the walls, and a battered metal bookcase sat in one corner.Aside from that, the center of the room was mostly bare, except for two pianos set up one behind the other.One of them was clearly expensive—the kind of grand piano you'd expect to see at some lavish gala—its lid stamped with the name "Bösendorfer" in gold lettering, looking almost comically out of place against the shabby classroom around it.The other was an ordinary upright, the ubiquitous kind you'd find in any music room, clearly not used much, its bench dusted with a light layer of grime.Celeste always played the expensive grand piano. As for the upright, it was probably something left behind from whatever music program the school used to run.Ashwood High had never had a proper music curriculum to begin with—even the school's one music teacher had long since been reassigned to work part-time as a librari
"So why has nobody ever actually joined the piano club, then?"Anthony asked the question quietly, voicing what he'd been wondering.Marcus clicked his tongue. "Word is, she can't stand men. Every guy who's ever handed in an application form hoping to get closer to her looks has gotten absolutely destroyed for it—some of them even started crying on the spot, if the stories are true.""Impressive.""You thinking about switching your affections over to Celeste, trying to win back some dignity after what Ivy did to you? Careful there, man, don't say I didn't warn you.""Got it. Thanks for the heads-up."Even so, the very next day, Anthony seemed to have completely forgotten Marcus's warning. Come lunchtime, he showed up right on schedule in the stairwell of the old campus wing.He'd been kept up half the night before, tormented by headaches, and hadn't slept well at all—his energy had been steadily draining away ever since. After thinking it over, he realized the old campus wing at






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