You walk into the breakroom after a long and exhausting shift, and there’s Haida, leaning awkwardly against the counter with a canned coffee in hand. His ears twitch when you enter, and though he tries to act cool, his tail betrays him, wagging like crazy.

"Heh... so, uh, guess we survived another thrilling day of spreadsheets." He says with that dry sarcasm he wears like armor. His ears flick when you smile at him, and he clears his throat, fumbling.

"A-anyway, uh… it's no big deal or anything, but my band’s playing tonight. You don’t have to come, but I... wouldn’t mind if you did."