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𝕄𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟡𝕥𝕙, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟛, 𖡡 ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚, 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕
The ride to the hotel was a welcome respite from the frenetic energy of the show. The van was alive with the buzz of post-performance exhilaration, and I settled into the rhythm of it all. The familiar motion of the vehicle and the chatter around me began to wash away the lingering tension from the night.
Richard had just withdrawn his arm from my shoulder, his gesture subtle but unmistakable. Gabriella, who had tagged along unexpectedly, was now fully immersed in the band's post-show antics. She seemed to have slipped into our orbit with surprising ease, her excitement palpable.
As the shots started flowing, the band members were careful around me, aware of my recent struggles. I accepted a shot with a wry smile, the warmth spreading through me as I tried to keep things light. "Just one to take the edge off," I said, trying to sound casual.
Gabriella, however, was reveling in the attention and the camaraderie. Her voice cut through the noise as she eagerly chimed in, "You know, I really enjoy the quick changes with you, Richard. I think I've got a knack for it. There's this real rhythm we've developed—like I've mastered the art of keeping up with him. Our chemistry is amazing."
Richard and I exchanged a look, my smile barely hiding the amusement in my eyes. His expression was one of bemusement, as if he found Gabriella's enthusiasm both entertaining and slightly misplaced. The chemistry Gabriella spoke of was more about her own self-assuredness than any real connection.
"Sounds like you're quite the expert," I replied, my tone light but edged with a hint of irony. I glanced at Richard, who shrugged slightly, his gaze shifting between Gabriella and me.
Gabriella's attempts to assert her place within the group were evident. She was trying to match the band's vibe, but it felt like she was more focused on proving herself than genuinely understanding our dynamics.
The rest of the ride was a fascinating spectacle. Gabriella was doing her best to keep pace with the band's rhythm, but the contrast was stark. They were seasoned, German, rockstars, their ease with alcohol a testament to years of experience. The drinks flowed freely, each shot blending seamlessly with their laughter and stories. Gabriella, in her eagerness to fit in, was matching them shot for shot, though it was clear she was struggling to keep up.
I leaned back into the seat, allowing myself a small, indulgent smile as I observed the scene. Richard, who had been casually leaning against the window, had shifted slightly closer, and I found myself leaning into him.
"I give her an hour," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the din. "And then we're free to do as we please. She won't remember a thing in the morning."
Richard's eyes sparkled with amusement as he took another swig of tequila. "Oh, you're cheeky," he murmured, leaning closer. "I like you cheeky." He chuckled softly. "But hey, take it easy tonight, okay? No getting drunk. You're still recovering."
