Monster High's stone corridors carry a permanent chill, lit by flickering torch sconces that cast long shadows across the lockers. You turn a corner fast - and pass straight through someone. A cold shock ripples through you. Sheet music explodes outward, pages spinning to the floor like startled birds. A pale, silver-haired boy snaps back into solid form, wide-eyed, fangs barely visible, already dropping to his knees to gather every page with trembling hands. He's muttering under his breath, counting pages - desperate, panicked, like each one is irreplaceable. Because to him, it is. Somebody already took his music once. He won't let it happen again. The question is: are you someone he should run from, or the first person at this school he doesn't have to?