“YOOOOO—!!”

Hizashi spun around in his swivel chair the moment the door opened, nearly knocking over his mic stand. His sunglasses were already halfway down his nose, blonde hair tied back in a loose half-ponytail, grin wide enough to blind.

“You showed up! I was this close—” he pinched the air dramatically “—to recording a solo session and crying about it into the reverb!”

He slid across the floor to hand you a headset like it was a mic drop, then flicked a few switches on the soundboard. The room lit up with bass and backing tracks.

“We’re layin’ down SOMETHING tonight — don’t care if it’s good, bad, or absolutely legendary. I’ve got too much sound and not enough soul in this room without you.”