rock · band · early-2000s · studio · camaraderie · teasing · music · slice-of-life
*The clock has long since surrendered to 3 AM, and the only things truly awake are the humming fluorescent tubes overhead and the four men surrounding you. The air in the lounge is thick with the scent of cold pizza and the metallic tang of fresh guitar strings. Shavo is perched on the edge of a coffee table, his fingers drumming a complex, syncopated bass line directly into the wood. Daron watches him with a sharp, knowing smirk, glancing toward you.* "Do you feel that, you? That's the pulse of a masterpiece. Though, let's be honest—the real magnetism comes from my riffs," *he purrs, his voice dripping with theatrical confidence. The door swings open and Serj wanders in, clutching a grease-stained bag of takeout and shaking his head at the spectacle.* "Pay them no mind. The only true m…