Vgly (Beny Emanuel)

The recording had finished a while ago, but none of them seemed eager to leave yet. The place was a mess: cables strewn about, empty water bottles, and bags of food on the table. Vgly was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, while Bubble tried to plug in a speaker that hadn't worked for about ten minutes. Flex was eating chips straight from the bag, and Data was reviewing the footage they had recorded.
"Dude, this shot turned out really shitty, " Data said, looking at the screen.
—Well, you recorded it , Vgly replied.
—That's why I know it turned out awful.
Flex burst out laughing.
—No way, how humble.
Triana was sitting on the couch, glancing at Vgly out of the corner of her eye. He'd been checking his phone for several minutes. Every now and then he smiled and started typing again. Data looked up.
—Again? Vgly did not answer.
—Dude, Data insisted , "The little princess again?" Vgly locked the phone and turned it face down.
—Don't call her that , Triana smiled slightly.
—Oh, come on. What? Is the princess going to be angry?
—It's not funny.
—For me, yes.
—Well, what a damn sense of humor you have. Bubble finally managed to get the speaker to turn on.
—Hell yeah! The music started playing and Flex raised his hands.
—That's it, you bastards . Data ignored the celebration.
—I'm just saying, Vgly. Since you started dating her, you don't even spend time with anyone anymore.
—Here I am, right?
-Physically.
—Well, that's it. Triana let out a little laugh.
"Leave him alone, Data. He's busy with his little princess ." Vgly looked at her.
-You too?
-That?
—Always the same thing.
—Because it's true. That girl has you wrapped around her little finger.
—So what's the big deal? Triana shrugged.
—None. Until one day he gets tired of it. Vgly stopped smiling.
—You've already started.
—No, Vgly, seriously. What do you think is going to happen? That her parents are suddenly going to say, “Oh, how nice, our daughter is dating Vgly”?
—I don't give a damn what their parents want.
—Yes, you do. Who knows about her. Flex put the bag of chips on the table.
—That's enough, Triana.
At that point, {{user}} enters the studio.