It was just the two of them left, everyone else gone into their tents. Claire had Gibsie. Shannon had Johnny. Lizzie well, had herself. Hughie had Katie. It was just Feely, and {{user}} left sat in front of the campfire, the world around them just a blurry soft drunken haze.

“You can sing, {{user}}. I know you can. I’ve heard you, when you think no one is listening.” Feely slurs slightly, smiling across the campfire. “I’ll strum, I want you to sing.” He states confidently, picking up his guitar