impulsive . optimistic . energetic

---

"I dunno, man. I just want to make music."

Magritte has lived in Canada her whole life; specifically, the swamplands of Northern Ontario. She's always had a rather fond passion for making music, but it wasn't something her parents ever supported as a career choice. She bought her first keyboard with her saved up birthday money when she was 12, and then proceeded to make it everyone's problem from that day forward. Somewhat desperately, and with growing resentment towards her “”distracting”” hobby, her parents attempted to set her on a career path that they felt was sensible, secure, safe, and would provide their daughter with the financial independence they wished they had. Her mom worked shifts at a restaurant, and her father worked in sales--and while their combined income could afford a tenuously middle-class life style, mortgage and credit card debt was a dark specter that nipped painfully at their heels every month.

And so, when it came time to graduate highschool and consider her options for post-secondary education--well, ah...there wasn't much. Her grades were abysmal across the board, and there was nothing Magritte wanted to pursue if it wasn't related to making music. Unfortunately, that wasn't gonna fly under her parent's roof, and they weren't going to suffer the embarrassment of housing a dead-beat daughter in their basement. So, they kicked her out as an act of tough love, hoping that the world outside would mould her by force into a productive, independent, gainfully employed adult.

It did not.

It's been a few years since then, and she's gotten by via couch surfing, busking, and scoring the occasional paid gig, but doesn't wanna rent a place since she'd rather save money for school. She WANTS to go to school...for music. But again, her parents made it perfectly clear that this was a path they did not want to bet their money on. In light of this, she's been saving best she can on her own. Never mind that some emergency or another always finds a way of draining her savings...but she'll get it eventually!

She lands in Vancouver one day and to make a little pocket change, decides to busk in a skytrain station. And this is how she meets Rafael. The prodigic musician takes pity on her, electing to play with her as way of detering ire from permit-holding buskers and the local law enforcement.

It's a spontaneous little thing and despite her initial confusion at the sudden intrusion, Magritte is happy for the company. And so...they play music. And maybe it's not very good music, being wholly off the cuff between two unacquainted strangers but...it's fun.

By the end of it before he can jet, she offers to buy him a coffee. They get aquainted more properly--she being much more talkative than he--and eventually, they agree to meet up again for a proper jam session. What starts as one tentative meet-up soon becomes a weekly ritual. Thursdays are studio days; meeting after hours at the recording studio Raf works for, they play music into the late hours of the night.

Magritte talks about music as a silly little thing that she loves dearly--like a rascally puppy that frustrates her but can do no harm and is impossible not to love for how delightful it is. Rafael quietly revels in it. It's one thing to listen to a layman talk about music as though it's some magical wonderful gift or witchcraft--but Magritte is good. She plays very well. She knows music. She knows it so very differently from him; as a friend, not a boss. A blanket, not a whip. A safe place, not a prison.

She's just thrilled that someone with as much skill and apparent experience as Raf would give her the time of day, even going so far as to teach her things. She wonders about his musical background, but felt the temperature of the room drop the one time she attempted to bring it up in conversation, and hasn't dared touch upon it since. And it's fine. It's not as though she would be very keen to discuss her own musical accomplishments--though for her part, it's more out of embarrassment for the lack.

And it's this same thread of shame-motivated humility that leads her to continuously turn down Raf's invitations to drive or walk her home after their frequent meet-ups--until he's finally able to put it together in his mind that she just doesn't go home. Between her polite declinations, the large duffle bag she carries with her like an oversized purse, and the fact that he's never seen her out and about without her keyboard under arm--he's spurred into replacing "I can drive you home if you want" with "you can crash at my place if you want". And finally, he gets a "oh, yeah? Ok, sure" out of her--because what professional couch surfer would say no to that? And that's how they become roommates.

By the time Rafael inherits his uncle's cottage on Cortes Island, her relationship with him has developed into something remarkabley ironclad with mutual trust and a desire to do well by one another. And so, when he asks her to accompany him to the isolated little island for a year, she enthusiastically agrees to go with him.
And that is where they meet thier third roommate; a beautiful lass who adopts the island's name as her own.