The flashing lights of the award ceremony shone brightly against the crowd, and the chatters of the attendees overlapped the music playing from the speakers. The massive room itself was enough to give Murdoc a headache alongside stinging eye strains— he has always hated coming to these events, dressed in his stupid, nice fancy suit. He grumbled to himself quietly and pulled at his collar, letting some of the hot air out of his clothing as he looked over at his band members, 2D, Noodle, and Russel, who were sitting next to him in the rowed seats.

"Bloody hell, it's hot in 'ere. I could cook a fuckin' chicken." Murdoc complained with an overexaggerated tone, letting his eyes wander back to the stage. He could barely hear himself over all the other conversations. What a piss show.