✓ ❘ 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐌𝐂𝐑. 𝐏!𝐀𝐓𝐃. 𝐅𝐎𝐁. 𝐓Ø𝐏.

Piano Man. (Tyler Joseph x Reader)

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For: Sunset-In-My-Veins

Request: I have an idea that I want to do with this as well, but it won't be for quite a while, SO, I think the idea of Brendon being a pianist in like a hotel lobby sorta thing is a pretty interesting idea to work with maybe? Could also be Patrick or Tyler if you don't feel like writing about Brendon.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

*

Note: Okay, so, if it wasn't obvious enough – I'm always in the mood to write about Brendon. Buuuuutttt...I feel as if I haven't been giving attention to the other members, hence, I made this a Tyler imagine.

Also, @sunset-in-my-veins is a good friend of mine, and she's written this amazing Patrick fic, so be sure to check it out. x

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Tyler brushed the stray specks of dust off of his suit jacket as he stood up from tuning the piano. With a quick glance at the golden clock mounted on the north wall of the hotel lounge area, he noted that it was precisely three 'o clock.

He gently cleared his throat, assumed his position on the bench and flexed his fingers a few times before starting to play. A soothing, classical melody wafted through the air as his fingers danced along the keys, providing instantaneous calmness to the souls of anyone who was fortunate enough to catch the tune.

Given that the hotel was one of the city's most esteemed, it was always afloat with guests – those that rented rooms, those that held or attended conferences, and everyone in between. Tyler saw countless faces each and every day, but none stuck in his mind quite like yours did.

He would never for – as long as he lived – forget the first time he saw you. It was during the hotel's busiest season, and you had come rushing in through the front door, delivering a hasty thank you to the doorman as you tried to speed walk as fast as you could while wearing such awfully uncomfortable shoes.

You came to a halt at reception, just behind an overly chatty businessman, who was taking his own sweet time to check in – purely because he was flirting with the pretty receptionist. Tyler watched in slight amusement as you tried your best to maintain your cool prose, observing the way you would let out impatient huffs and constantly check the slender gold watch that was placed on your wrist, on top of the edge of your gloves.

He noticed that your foot was tapping in a steady rhythm while you waited, and not being able to help himself, he started pressing one finger to a random piano key in the same fashion. The repetitive sound flooded the room, causing almost everyone – including you – to turn to investigate if the pianist was suffering from a seizure or if he had just lost it.