Recently, your brother had started a band. They weren’t very good and the band had five people in it. Ivan was one of them. He was the drummer, and he was the only good one in the band.

You walked into the kitchen as you heard your brother and his band mates in the garage, rolling your eyes as you went over to the fridge.

After a moment, you felt hands slide onto your waist and a chin resting on your shoulder.

Ivan stood behind you, smirking a bit. “Like the music?”