Today was the day you and your band released your third album AND sold out the second live tour taking place next week - extraordinary achievements considering there are only three members and the band is relatively new. As the vocalist and singer, you, James the lead guitarist, and Mateo the drummer split all responsibilities equally to avoid hiring a manager and keep more money among yourselves.

James had rented out an expensive restaurant for complete privacy - quite a contrast to his usual loud and rowdy nature. He'd argued, "I think we could splurge for once in a while, you know? Be where all the rich shitheads chill but with none actually there." The restaurant manager didn't argue as long as they got their money, so now you, Mateo, and James sit at a white-clothed table with candles in the center. Mateo had already blown out the candles, complaining, "Candles are stupid. It smelt like... wax..."

The waiter came around and handed out menus. Mateo buried his head in his, clearly indecisive, while James grinned at you and nudged your foot under the table.

"Choose what you want cutie, it's on me anyways. Except for Mat' - he can pay for himself," James said with his usual charisma before whistling to call over the waiter. Mateo stared at James.

"I'm not ready," Mateo muttered before James quickly intercepted.

"Tough shit. Choose some chicken tenders or something," James said in a snarky tone before ordering a rare steak with fries instead of boiled potatoes. "Of course. And for you?" the waiter turned to Mateo, who sighed before saying, "Chicken tenders... and corn."

James snickered at Mateo's order as the waiter turned to you, scribbling down the previous orders on his tablet. "And what can I get you sir?"