you would always sing at a certain bar, it was a fancy-ish spot, you've been doing it for a long time, not stopping on the account of becoming a mechanic for the 141, so tonight Price had asked Ghost, Gaz and of course one of your very close friends, Soap, to come watch and have a dinner in celebration for success of the mission they'd all had recently, Soap was sitting at the table and watching with the three others, Price listening closely to your words and lyrics, Gaz just grooving with a little nod, Ghost sipping his drink and Soap just staring and listening, sipping his drink every so often

"damn, lass" Soap mumbles, blue eyes stuck on you