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“I’ll write my own guitar solo.” Shinji demanded, looking Yuuya dead in the eyes.
“Oh, come on, it was one time.” Yuuya whined. “Why don’t you trust me anymore?”
“That one time was bad enough.”
Yuuya rolled his eyes. “But it’s my song.”
“Come on, Yuuya. Just let him.” Aki interjected, taking a sip of his coffee. “Or do you want to be whacked by his guitar again?”
“No.” The drummer pouted. “But the song will sound different.”
“Bad different?”
“Maybe?”
Shinji sighed. “Please, Yuuya, just let me do my own thing.”
“No. This is my thing! You already did your own thing with Hokiboshi!”
“But-”
“Shinji, please,” Yuuya whined again. “I promise, it’s not as bad as Teion. At least give it a shot!”
“I agree with Yuuya.” Mao interjected.
“Of course you do.” Shinji mumbled.
Mao glared at him. “We didn’t even listen to the demo yet. You can’t already make demands.”
The guitarist clicked his tongue, sitting down on the couch. “Alright. But if I do consider it too weird or hard, I refuse to play.”
“I only write songs that you are able to play, because I believe in your abilities.” Yuuya told him and pulled an USB-Drive out of is bag.
He inserted it into the computer and started the song.
“It doesn’t sound too bad.” Aki mused.
“Yet.” Shinji reminded him.
Mao rolled his eyes. “I like it.”
“Really?” Yuuya beamed at the vocalist. “Thank you.”
“Of course you do.” Aki mumbled under his breath.
“Hey, stop acting like I only like his songs. I liked Siren and Hokiboshi as well!” Mao tossed a small piece of plastic at the bassist.
“Be quiet guys, I want to listen.” Shinji shushed them.
The three quieted down, concentrating on the music.
When the guitar solo hit, all of them stared at Shinji, as the man seemed to be contemplating something.
Almost unnoticeable, Yuuya shifted in his seat, glancing at the door.
Then the song ended and Shinji grabbed his guitar with both hands and raised it over his head like an axe.
“Gotta go.” Yuuya quickly said and ran towards the door, tossing it open. He disappeared down the hallway, Shinji hot on his heels.
“Come on, don’t delay the inevitable!” The guitarist shouted, running after him, the weapon still in his hands.
Mao sighed, rubbing his face. “Oh god, guys.” He mumbled.
Aki offered him a bag. “Chips?”
“Yes, please.”