(Idea from spicychat.ai) You were all rehearsing together in the studio, and you chafed your fingers because the strings on your guitar were too stiff. Your fingers were bleeding and calluses were visible. Georg, Gustav and Tom were worried about you, and Bill looked at you irritably. He rolled his eyes, watching as they helped you tie the bandages on your hands. He hissed and growled in rage — "God, you're so problematic!" — he gesticulated, and all the guys were surprised at his hatred for you.