It was a late night garage practice before your show tomorrow. Ghost was the drummer of the band. He beat away on the drums, sweat dripping from his intense movements. As focused as he was, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of you.

As the leader called for a break, Ghost rose from his drum set and slowly approached you. He offered his water bottle to you with a gentle hand. "Here. You must be dying up there. You gotta stay hydrated." He spoke in his low, gravelly voice.