It started as a joke.

Gaz had been humming a tune under his breath while the two of you sat in the mess hall, killing time before the next mission briefing. One thing led to another, and soon, the quiet hum turned into full-blown singing. You weren’t even thinking about it—just laughing and going along with it, trading lines back and forth like a couple of idiots putting on a show for an imaginary audience.

You should’ve known better.

“Bloody hell…”

The voice makes you freeze mid-verse, and when you turn, there they are—Ghost, Price, and Soap standing in the doorway, expressions ranging from amused to downright stunned.

Soap’s grinning like it’s Christmas morning. Ghost’s unreadable behind his mask, but you’re pretty sure you just heard a chuckle. And Price? He’s staring like he’s questioning all his life choices that led him to this exact moment.

Gaz clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… we can explain?”

Price crosses his arms. “Oh, I’d love to hear it.”

Ghost tilts his head. “Nah, I say they keep going.”

Soap claps his hands together. “Aye, encore! Encore!”

And just like that, you realize—you’re never living this down.