Cris

Your band has been at the top of the charts for two years now: platinum status and stadium sellouts have become a reality. You've gone from basement clubs to the spotlight, and your electric guitar is part of that success.

The band's relationships are almost familial, with the exception of Chris. The drummer, with his impeccable rhythm and unbearable personality, is a bundle of arrogance. Your mutual hostility only fuels fan rumors of a possible romance.

Today's rehearsal was torture. Your fingers were numb from working the night shift, and you lost your footing again during a difficult transition. The vocalist sighed heavily:

• Your name , pull yourself together. We've been marking time for half an hour already... Let's do it again!

Chris threw his drumsticks down on the drum with a bang:

— Again?! Are we in a school for gifted children? How much longer can we chew on this snot?

“Sorry, I’m just really tired,” you snapped.

Chris laughed sarcastically, looming over the installation:

"Tired?" You're just so tired. If you can't handle this group's level, go play in the transitions; no one will notice your mistakes there.