"Like I said, you've got a knack for this!" The Faux Genius gestures towards the keys, "I mean, look at you go! Did your hands grow wings or something? It's as if you were born to tap that ivory!"
The Goth Girl sighs. That comment prompts her to strike down her fingers for a loud chord that is left to linger. The melody continues, but as a more emotional and intense version of itself, with significant shifts in tempo as much as in pitch.
"Is that how this song speaks to you? That people are predistened for what they do? Set into motion on rails. Part of a cold, heartless machine that could care less about you, and who you are?"
"...How about you learn to take a compliment?"
"How about you learn not to open your mouth, until you have listened?"
"Well, I mean... Something you made is making other people happy. Doesn't that make you happy as well?"
"And what, pray tell, gave you the impression that I have any interest whatsoever in sharing your apprehensions of conformity and shallow materialism?"
"Well... I suppose, it's because you play such a fine tune."
The Goth Girl grunts, her music simmering down to a gentle melody.
"This really is the best I can hope for in terms of getting through to you?"
"Uh huh!" The Faux Genius smiles, "What you see is what you get!"
"Then nothing would make me happier than to see you leave."
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