002. if not the fact that his life was ruthlessly stolen from him, kaeden would’ve been an excellent pianist, perhaps even an artist or a painter on the side. his creativity strung together with his natural and visceral talents would put him on a high pedestal in the world of classical music in particular, as he is generally more drawn towards music than art.
don't get me started on kaeden jeremiah smith sitting in front of avenues and listening to classical music concerts, feeling this strange attachment to them but not truly knowing what they are, almost being able to understand some sort of secret and mysterious language that's known only to the artists — feeling a desolate, scorching sensation of hollowness, of yearning and longing, a desire to reach out and go inside. even though it feels so much like home, he knows that it’s not for him. he can only listen and leave.