“What do you guys normally do right before a show? Since I've been here, you've just sort of been hanging out with me.” “A huge improvement over the usual, I assure you,” Muse says, pushing off the wall and coming over to stand in front of me in his torn tank and low-slung jeans, penning me in against the bricks. Even out here, with a storm brewing and the wind dragging strands of red hair across my face, I can smell Muse's smoky tea/incense scent. “And the usual was …” I start, my eyes drawn to the fullness of Derek's mouth, the way it parts slightly as he looks down at me, still smiling.
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