vincent charbonneau, despite the common assumption, was always convinced that whoever said that food tasted better with good music was a liar. at la gueule de saturne it was never the focus anyway, just empty decor to the dishes served. but being given the heart of the new saxophonist performing live at the bistro on a silver platter, filled so much with selfless devotion, how could he refuse? ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ( 🥩 ) > also published on ao3 as @ilikesmartazzes4.