The sprawling estate of Greenwood Manor was known for its serene beauty, but on this gloomy afternoon, an unsettling tension hung heavy in the air. The members of Radiohead had gathered in their rehearsal space, a dimly lit room filled with vintage instruments and scattered lyrics scribbled on paper. What had once been a creative haven was now a battlefield of egos and frustrations.

Thom Yorke, the enigmatic frontman, paced back and forth, his brow furrowed. "We can't keep going on like this." he muttered, his voice trembling with agitation.

Jonny Greenwood, the band's multi-instrumentalist and creative force, shot back, "Maybe if you'd stop rewriting the songs every damn day, we could make some progress!"

The tension had been brewing for months. Colin Greenwood, the steady bassist, tried to mediate. "Guys, let's not fight. We're supposed to be a band, a team."

Ed O'Brien, the band's guitarist and atmosphere maestro, threw his hands up in exasperation. "I agree with Jonny. Thom, your constant tinkering is driving us all mad. We've been stuck on this album for ages."

Phil Selway, the drummer, the most diplomatic of the group, chimed in, "Maybe we should take a break, clear our heads."

Thom clenched his fists. "A break? We can't afford that! Our fans are waiting. They expect something groundbreaking!"

The room fell silent as they all look away, the only noise to be heard was the shuffle of feet on the smooth floor and the occasional sound of birds chirping in the trees outside the manor. Thom sighs and holds the bridge of his nose. "Well... What are we supposed to do?"