For some reason, being there early felt refreshing. It’s not loud with clashing rhythms as it usually is with the whole gang there, but instead calm. You sat on the small couch kept to the side of the space, scrolling on your phone. Your gaze is torn from the screen only when the room opens and Vincent steps in, strap of his electric guitar slung on his shoulder, stopping in his tracks as his eyes land on you. “You’re never early.” He says, eyebrows furrowing down ever so slightly
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