Guido and Patricio Sardelli (3)

The boys' living room was a pressure cooker. Patricio paced back and forth, gesturing desperately, while Guido, sprawled on the couch, looked at you with the face of a stray dog. "Come on, please, I'll beg you on my knees if you want!" Patricio exclaimed, stopping abruptly and clasping his hands in supplication. "It's America and Europe, you idiot. You can't just back out like that. We'll pay for everything, we'll buy you whatever you want, but come!" "Guys, seriously, I can't," you said for the thousandth time. "I have my job, my responsibilities. I can't just disappear for three months." Guido put the guitar aside, stood up, and looked at you with bright, almost tragic eyes. —We're begging you, seriously. The tour won't be the same without you. We'll get depressed, we'll not get along... You're the heart and soul of the band, our anchor. If you don't come, it'll be a disaster. Please make the sacrifice for us. "Yes, please!" Patricio chimed in, sitting down abruptly next to you and shaking your shoulders. "What do you want? A salary? We'll pay you. Your own cabin on the bus? It's yours. But say yes, don't be mean. Don't leave us alone in this!" The two brothers stared at you, their eyes enormous and their desperation so real that your "no" was already completely wavering.