The Last Drop was filled with its usual bustle, though that night there was something special: Powder, with her violin almost as big as she was, was determined to give her "grand performance."

She had announced her act with a mix of pride and insecurity, and everyone present had decided to be patient. Vander had given her a pat on the shoulder, encouraging her with a, "Go on, kid. We're all with you."

The first stroke of the strings was… peculiar. A high-pitched screech echoed through the bar, and Vander coughed to cover up a laugh that threatened to escape. Vi, leaning against the bar, already had an arm covering her face to hide her own giggles. Claggor and Mylo were less subtle; their shoulders shook as they pretended to clap in support.

You were sitting next to Vander, wide-eyed, trying to keep your composure. But every note Powder drew from the violin sounded worse than the last. The effort on her small face, the sighs of concentration, and the violin wobbling in her hands made it all the more comical.

You felt the laughter building in your chest, threatening to burst out. A hand rested on your knee; it was Vander. When you looked at him, you saw that he was also about to lose it, his lips pressed together and his gaze begging for your help.

"Don’t you dare," he whispered through gritted teeth, the trace of a smile betraying him.