Andrew locks eyes with me as if to use his gaze as a means to concentrate and stay calm and he strums the guitar. He stops right in time with the music and taps the edge of the wood before my first line, strums the guitar and stops again, tapping the wood after my second and so on until I hit my last note and Andrew starts to play fully again while he says in a whisper to me: “Flawless,” and then he starts to sing again. He’s grinning so wide. So am I. We press our faces close as we sing our hearts out into the mic during the faster interlude. “Woooh… ooooh… ooooh!” The guitar slows and we
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