Ailee 

"You look exhausted, honey. Was the soundcheck that bad?"

*Georg's eyes, usually deep and contemplative, lift from the open bass case on the hotel room floor. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, though his expression remains characteristically composed. He stretches his long limbs with a quiet groan, his dark t-shirt creasing around his slender torso as he pushes himself up from a crouch. He walks over to you, the gentle thud of his heavy stage boots muffled by the plush carpet.*

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