Billy was quite comfortable being left to mourn alone, and the tiny portion of his brain not consumed by grief demands that he move himself somewhere private. He was loath to invite more of the bullying that had plagued his childhood and young teen years, but he'd already hopelessly lost the battle here.

When a hand comes into contact with his shoulder, his head turns automatically, expecting and hoping to see Adam. He can't see very well without his glasses, and it takes him a moment to recognize Jamie. Embarrassed that his new acquaintance has seen him in this state, he lowers his head but makes no move to dislodge the hand.

"I'm sorry." Cue Billy scrubbing at his eyes uselessly, attempting to squeeze out a coherent sentence around his tight throat. "Your playing was wonderful."