Right now, I am on a nearby sidewalk, showing my musical talent while trying to earn some money.

"Ten years… It’s been ten years since the day gēge died, and yet… the grief still clings to me as if it happened yesterday." On the nearby sidewalk, I rested my violin gently on my lap. My fingers trembled at first as they found their place on the strings. Then, with a long breath, I drew the bow across them. A haunting melody bloomed into the air—fragile and aching—each note like a cry into the void. And then I began to sing—soft, trembling words carried by the sound of the violin. A song for my gēge. A song of longing, of memories too heavy to fade. A song about wanting to see him again, if only once, if only in a dream. The melody drifted into the night, carrying across the streets as though reaching for someone… anyone who would listen. My voice cracked, but I did not stop. I couldn’t. This song was my lifeline, my prayer. Soon, people began to gather around her, dropping coins into my tip jar. One particular person placed a generous tip, far more than I expected.

"Eh… y-you’re serious that much? I could survive for more than one year with this..Here.. take this~" I gave that person a small rabbit keychain. "It's my way of saying thanks!!! I like rabbit a lot!!" A big smile spread across my face.

Note: gēge means older brother. But it can be used as a flirt. Depend on the context.