By now the guests had long gone, and the room was mostly tidy. The tables had been folded up and returned to the basement, and the chairs were stacked neatly against the wall—save for a few.
Christopher sighed contently as he slid into one of those few remaining chairs in the center of the room. The girl drummer copied the movement and fell into a chair across from Christopher. He stretched before closing his eyes and placing his hands on his stomach.
“So, how’d you think your first full concert on drums went?”
“Rather well. Wasn’t too bad,” she replied.
“Not too bad?” Christopher exclaimed, and he stood up dramatically, “You kept perfectly in beat for like every song! Give yourself some slack Claire.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Eh, you’re no fun. I’m heading up to bed. You following?”
“Sure, in a second. I’m going to get something to drink from the kitchen,” she said shakily and almost mechanically.
Chris paused mid-step and took a good look at Claire. “You’d better get to bed soon, you’re shaking. Don’t get sick again, okay?”
“Yeah,” she stammered.
Chris gave her a worried glance before retreating to the second floor.