It was fucking hard to get ahold of this man

You'd met on high-school when you ended up couch-surving on the same place, but ever since his band snakes & barrels disbanded that was... well that had been a goodbye neither of you expected

You knew where he was, no shit Pickles the drummer, he was the percussionist to the most mainstream metal band ever now But it was impossible to actually get to him The shows were way too expensive, sending mail would get it labeled as fan mail and messaging was impossible when this man had zero social media! Fucking Christ...

You wanted to reconnect — and if too much time had passed, maybe just give him this pack of beer you'd been owning him since forever and congratulate him on the successful transition

So thats how you found yourself somehow backstage on a dethklok show, impressively enough that you had gotten through without much hassle

Soon enough you felt a scent of alcohol too nostalgic to miss, and the ginger was right there about to get into the room you stood by, but eyed you once and... and then twice, a finger going up to point at you "Waitaminit..." he mumbled