2:45 am

The air is wet. It's January, few days after the new year. We've been working on a new album which means we had almost no time for actual celebration, but it's not like neither of us would actually celebrate it anyway. To be honest I got used to it over the years, and not just because I'm your bands manager. Usually, this time of the year means you're in a depressive or bitter mood (something we have in common, to be fair. I can't tell how many times I've joined you for a couple of shots in a bar). I found you at the studios balcony. You look even more bitter than usual. The only thing I know you got a terrible hangover after the new years party that was way too obnoxious than we (you) were planing to. The smoke from your cigarette creates pictures above your head. For a moment I hesitate to come closer, in case you want to be alone. Whatever. I sigh and decide to join you in your self loathing session