There was something in the Keys, some sort of comfort and purpose, when lithe fingers roamed upon them. Black and White coming together, mixing, and blending, needing one another, else they don't work in the proper order. Chords and Notes caught up in an elegant dance of there own and the rest of the world didn't exist anymore. Just the Keys.
Then the Whites where gone and the Black, well the Black never sounds the same. Black still played its parts, with hallow efficiency, qued the others, helped kept order. Protected the rest of the family with routine dances. Black now played like dead sound, wasn't proper anymore, was out of tune and no one knew how to tune it again. Not even our Tuner.