against the clock

“Nace,” Bojan announces as he flops down into the chair next to him. “I think we’re gonna need you to peel Jure off the floor and get him onto the plane.” He points, but Nace is already looking up to take in the sight of their drummer, sprawled on his back with one arm cast dramatically over his eyes. Jan shaking the other in a futile attempt to rouse him and looking utterly bemused by this sudden role reversal. Nace takes it as much in stride as he has everything since day one, nodding sagely. “Ah, that’ll be the four day hangovers kicking in.” Bojan frowns, confused. “The what?” “The four day hangovers,” Nace says as though it’s obvious. At the sight of Bojan’s expression, he elaborates, “You know how you hit twenty-five and suddenly your hangovers last twice as long? Well, that doubles again once you hit thirty, and of course Muca’s an old man as of midnight.” He sighs heavily. “The headaches, the nausea, the fatigue... he’ll be stuck in a darkened room throughout, no use to anyone.” Bojan’s mind takes him on a whistlestop tour of every last horror that Jure being out of action for several days this close to Karneval will bring upon their collective heads, before he manages to run smack bang into a realisation. “Wait... you weren’t even drinking any more by thirty, how would you know?” Nace’s composure cracks in a wave of loud laughter, and Bojan is struck once again with the revelation that he really isn’t the calm and responsible adult that he comes across as. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s just as jarring every time. On the plus side, the sound gets a groan out of Jure, so it seems that they won’t need to call for medical attention yet. “Of course it’s not a four day hangover,” Nace says, “There wouldn’t have been enough time for him to drink enough for that before we had to be here. He’s just tired from not going to bed after the gig, that’s all.” He offers Bojan a smile and heaves himself up. “Don’t worry, I’ll grab him.” “Thanks, Nacko, you’re the best!” Nace is already several paces away before it strikes Bojan just how short three years are, and calls after him, “But the four day hangover thing, is a joke, right? Right?” Nace doesn’t answer.