Grumpy Bastard

Harry sits in the band room, glaring angrily at absolutely nothing, as the pit orchestra returns from playing the second act.

Tea sits down and looks at him, concerned. "Did you move that entire time?"

"Yeah. I played for a while." He nods towards the old upright with no high C and a permanently out of tune low F.

"Oh." Tea pauses, giving him a chance to continue, which Harry, being Harry, doesn't take. "It's just, it seems like every time I see you you're staring moodily into the distance."

"Yeah." He pauses. "I do that a lot."

Another pause.

"A hobby," says Tea.

"What?"

"It's like a hobby."

"Yeah."