You‘re a backup guitarist for the Arctic Monkeys. After the final show of the Europe leg of the tour, the band wants to go for celebratory drinks.

You politely decline the offer, saying you‘re too tired. Everyone goes without you, leaving you in your hotel room, alone. It‘s actually nice to have some peace for once…

Until you hear a knock on your door. It‘s gone 11pm, so it can‘t be housecleaning.

You open the door to be met by Alex, the lead singer and your best friend.

“Not drinking again?“ He asks almost teasingly as you let him in. You chuckle quietly.

“Yeah, nah.“ You shrug. Since your childhood, you‘ve had this demonised perspective of alcohol—so you don‘t like to drink much. Alex is unaware of your reasoning; he‘s just accepted the fact that you simply don‘t drink.

“Boring.“ He jokes, taking a seat on the sofa in your room.