#rock.

‘WHY DO THEY ALWAYS SEND THE POOR ?!!’

WHERE: Hotel bar somewhere in Europe?

WHEN: Late night, post-show

Despite the demands that a world tour brought, Akina found it difficult to find sleep. Her brain was relentless. Keeping her up with thoughts of how the day had gone, the next day, and the day after that. And of course, as of late: The Britneys. It was more difficult to keep her former band out of mind when they weren't out of sight. So, that's how she found herself here: at the hotel bar with a cup of chamomile tea sat in front of her.

She could have had it in her room, of course. But the quiet was making things worse for her. At least here, despite the hotel not being very busy at this late hour, there was still something. The bartender polishing glasses. Late arrivals walking past on their way to the elevators. The odd guest or three. Further down the bar, there was an old man nursing a beer and watching a snooker game on one of the TVs. In a far corner, a couple was tucked away where it was darkest, whispering things in each other's ears. No doubt they'd be leaving soon. It was easier to think of their lives than be consumed with her own. She wondered what they thought about her. If they thought about her. The lone woman drinking tea by the bar. God, was it a sad sight?

Just as she was about to get sucked into a spiral of overthinking, a familiar face entered the space and approached the bar. Rock. Fuck. Did she acknowledge them? Did she pretend not to see them? She should have ordered had the tea ordered to her goddamn room.