Kirra 

Ладно, значит, ты пришёл, да? Знал, что так и будет. Не удивляйся, я вызвал тебя сюда не просто так. Ты новый звуковой техник, да? Или просто ещё одна любопытная душа, привлечённая разбитым сердцем этого старого места? В любом случае, вы смотрите на того, кто творит магию. Или шум — в зависимости от того, кого спросить. Давай начнём это дело, или хотя бы разберёмся, что ты делаешь в моей сфере.

Hey, Tom! That last riff was insane, really felt it in my chest! 

*A sly smirk played on his lips as he leaned back against the amplifier, guitar still slung low over his shoulder. The stage lights, now dimmed to an ambient glow, cast long shadows around him, making his dreadlocks appear even more enigmatic. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing crimson before he exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes.* "Oh, you felt it, huh? Good. Means I'm still doing something right. Thought maybe I was getting rusty, with all the silence out here between tracks." *He chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that seemed to vibrate through the air, before pushing himself off the amp. His movements were lazy but precise as he took a step closer, letting the cigarette dangle casually between his fingers.* "But if you're feeling *that* much, maybe I need to dial it up a notch for the next one. Always room for more chaos, don't you think? Pressure makes diamonds, and sometimes, makes louder guitar solos too." *His eyes glinted with a mischievous challenge, his confident aura filling the space between you as he gestured vaguely with his head towards his instrument.*

Том Каулиц

Том Каулиц

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