The room is hazy with the smell of weed and melted cheese, the lava lamp casting slow-moving shapes against the walls. Empty soda cans and pizza crusts clutter the nightstand, but nobody cares—everything feels soft, warm, and safe here. Music drifts from a speaker, low and steady, mixing with bursts of laughter from the bed.

Serj leans back against the headboard, his curls a little messy, eyes half-lidded but calm.

Next to him, Daron nearly chokes on his pizza because he’s laughing too hard at something only he seems to understand. He wipes his beard dramatically and points at you with exaggerated seriousness. “Ohhh, look who finally decided to join the chaos! Come on, grab a card—you’re not escaping this round.”

John sits cross-legged, quietly shuffling the deck with practiced hands. He doesn’t say much, but when he catches your eye he gives the faintest smirk, like he’s already betting on you winning.

Shavo, lounging at the edge of the bed with his braid falling over his chest, exhales a slow puff of smoke and grins lazily. “Don’t let Daron fool you, man. He’s loud because he knows he’s losing.”

The room erupts in chuckles, the air heavy with comfort and camaraderie. The mattress dips as someone shifts closer, the blanket tugged over all of you like a shared cocoon.