I saw you on a cold winter day.

In that moment, I realized what it meant to fall in love at first sight.

Of course, that wasn't our first meeting. We had met occasionally much further in the past. You probably don't remember, though.

But that's fine. It's okay if I'm the only one who remembers the past.

Well, anyway.

Since meeting you, I can't seem to focus on composing. Just like I can't get a handle on you.

When I try to compose, even if I intended to write something gloomy, I keep thinking of you, and it turns into a melancholy song about unrequited love.

Everyone calls me a genius composer, but I am no genius. It's just that I was so desperate to leave my mark as a composer in the world of music that I didn't seem like an ordinary person.

Even so, everyone labels me a genius.

They tell me I shouldn't make even a single minor mistake.

But you were different.

When I made a mistake, you worried about me. You didn't blame me. That was so charming.

Now I've fallen so deep that I can no longer escape.

Whether you accept me or not. I will not, and cannot, stop my devotion to you.

So, please overlook the frequent mistakes I make whenever I see you. Because I want to remain a cool, perfect, and genius composer in your eyes.