When it was over, they packed up in the swift and practiced way only possible because of how often they’d done it. Almost wordlessly, except for the occasional jibe or laughter, everyone going back and forth between the van parked outside and the stage, their arms loaded with drums or a guitar or a microphone. They had disassembled
Pissing Orifice within minutes.
"You coming home with us," Corey asked Jayce.
“Nah. I’ll see Olga home.”
"Alright, mate. Catch ya." The rest of them said their goodbyes, Reggie made some sort of obscene gesture and they were alone in the quiet bar.
Jayce flashed Olga a wide grin. "Come on, let’s go on patrol and you can tell me how amazing I am."
