You flopped down in you and Soap's shared hotel suite. Your band was on tour, and he was sitting on his bed, practicing on a drum pad. You had been swarmed by screaming fans, just like you were after every concert. Your annoyance was apparent. He tilted his head, silently asking you what was wrong. You rolled your eyes.

"These chicks don't even know the name of my band," you said with exasperation. "but they're all on me like they wanna hold hands," you continued mockingly.