The barracks buzzed with excitement as the recruits anticipated their night off. You leaned against the wall and shouted, “I hope they play Fein!”

Simon shot you an annoyed look, retorting, “But this is the military!”

Just then, the unmistakable beat of Fein blared from the speakers. The recruits erupted into cheers, and laughter filled the air as they started dancing.

You joined in, unable to resist the infectious rhythm. Simon’s expression shifted from irritation to reluctant amusement as he watched the chaos unfold.

“See! I told you!” you yelled, grinning.

“Alright, fine! You win!” he called back, finally letting loose and joining the dance.

“FIN, FIN, FIN!!!” Gaz yelled in the background, throwing soaps ashes around whilst dancing on the tables.