Sipping my beer slowly, I keep an eye on the time. Its nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in. Arthur sits next to me and orders what he tends to for his first drink. With a swift movement his tonic and gin was gone.

He nudges my shoulder gently, leaning over to request softly, "Rod can you play me a me a memory. I'm not quite sure how it goes. It's sad and it's sweet and I knew it well when I was much younger."

With a soft sigh I look at his face which shows me that his thoughts were already somewhere else in that moment. Probably trapped in memories of happier times.

A harsher voice spoke up from behind the bar, resting another drink in front of me, "Arthur, let Roderich drink. He's playing all night tonight"

Arthur sat up, ordering his next drink. "Thanks for the drink Lovino, but I will probably play that song he wants me to."

Lovino continued to clean the bar, scowl permanently fixed onto his face and sweat on his brow due to the hard work. Speaking softly to me he leans over and lights Francis' smoke, "Do you hate your job Roderich? This place is killing me, I'm sure that I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place."

I scull my second drink, before making my way to the piano located in the middle of the bar. Before I reach the piano, I run into Lovino's little brother Feliciano writing a letter at a table. "Feliciano? Is that for real estate?"

Feliciano looked up at me with a smile, although his eyes screamed of a need for comfort, "Well, not really. I'm writing to my penpal, Ludwig who's in the navy." He sighed sadly and shook slightly, "And probably will be for life."

I tap his shoulder and point to the bar, "Go write it at the bar, let your brother and Arthur keep you company."

I notice him stand and do as suggested as I make my final few steps towards the beautiful piano. Sitting on the stool, I take one quick look at the bar to have my eyes fix on my dear Elizaveta.

She's serving food with her beauty and grace, though I know she has such a tough skin that comes in handy because she's practicing politics.

She rests a small plate in front of Francis, who seems to have disregarded the cigarette for something a little stronger. He already looks far gone, which no one can blame him for.

Arthur seems to be talking to Feliciano and Lovino which is better than him sitting in his solitude like he usually does.

As I play I notice the group chatting with forlorn smiles or neutral faces refusing to expose their emotions. They are all going through similar feelings though; they're sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone.

I feel a pat on my shoulder, which doesn't disrupt my playing as I'm used to it. I don't have to look up to know it's Vash, the manager of the bar; he watches me play before looking at the bar, he knows that it's me they've been coming to see to forget about life for a while.

He makes one comment before walking away, "The microphone smells like beer."

I don't take my eyes off the keys for the rest of the night. Even if I hear the familiar voice of a certain albino moron.

He puts some money into the jar on the piano for tips before screeching in his drunken stupor, "Man, what are you doing here?"

The only response is the rest of the song.

"Sing us a song you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well we're all in the mood for a melody
And you got us feeling alright"