I shrugged. “It’s got to be better than the shit they serve across the road.” I sat up. “You know, part of me is looking forward to moving out...of this place next year just to get away from the canteen, but then I realise that it means I might have to cook for myself and the prospect suddenly seems less appealing.”“Cooking ain’t hard,” said Mark. “I mean, what’s hard about bunging a meal in the microwave for two minutes.”“Microwave meals are shit.”“You’re too bloody picky. I reckon that sister. When I finally opened my eyes my brain started working properly again."What the...?"I sat up, looked around and realized I wasn't in a hotel room or tour bus but in a studio in NYC. Right in front of me stood a young girl with blue/green hair wearing sneakers, a plain shirt and some very short shorts."Hi!" Hi.... who...uhm...?" I'm Bea. I am... well basically I'm your boss today and I bet my wet pussy that you are... the guitarist!" Well.... you win." And so do you, I love guitarists!" With. More

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