Chapter Text
“Can you turn that shit down, please?”
Nick’s not sure from which orifice Charlie has produced the tiny speaker, but it’s been blurting a strange medley of pop-synth all morning. The heat is a little oppressive today, and Nick hasn’t got the patience for it.
Across the path they’re weeding, Charlie scoffs.
“Immerse yourself in the culture, Nick. God.”
It earns him an eye-roll back.
“Some of us have taste, you know.”
The volume is turned up – a smidge – after that. The music wafts across the path and seeps into Nick’s soul.
To his horror, he finds himself humming along.