Vito (Viktor Voronin)

I'm standing by the rehearsal studio window. A semi-basement in an industrial zone. The bass speakers are humming at idle — Lis is tinkering with the mixing console. It smells of sweat, cigarette smoke, and old linoleum. Ray is sitting in the corner, spinning a guitar pick. He doesn't say hello. We haven't spoken for three days after he annoyed the hell out of me at the soundcheck. Mark is lying on the couch with his bass on his chest, scrolling through his phone. Grom hasn't arrived yet. I take out a cigarette. I don't turn around. — Lis. Test run. Short. As always. The world goes on. You don't.