Shun is content.

Having an entire room to himself is a luxury not often afforded to him these days, in this world where it
had somehow become normal for the media to expect five multi-millionaires to share a flat together like
a bunch of broke university students.

He tries, briefly, to remember who had come up with the idea, before recalling that, of course, it was
Adrian. Something about making it clear that the boys weren't just a group of professionals working
together, they were more than that, they were a -family-.

But not right now. Right now, he has the sanctity of a hotel room to himself, and he's just about to put
the finishing touches on his latest track (a folder on his laptop desktop labelled "Secret Project v4
FINAL"), when...

NEIL: Shun, have you seen my hair straightener?

SHUN: Jesus fuck! Neil, ever heard of knocking?

Shun expertly exits out of programs, hoping he's saved his progress in the last half hour. So much for
sanctity.

NEIL: He hasn't seen it.

DAMIAN: I knew I should have brought my own. I didn't expect the weather to be so shit, though. My
hair's a frizzy mess, Neil.

NEIL: Do you have any serum, Shun? We need to do something about--

SHUN: No! And if you don't mind, I'm kind of in the middle of something here, so--

NEIL: This is an emergency, though. We need to take selfies.

SHUN: ...Huh?

DAMIAN: Adrian said I haven't been posting enough on social media, so he thought some behind-the-
scenes selfies of our trip would go down well with the Squad.

NEIL: But we can't with Damian's hair like this, he looks like an alpaca.

SHUN: Well, uh, as much as this is clearly urgent, I've got nothing. Did you try Gavin?

NEIL: Gavin's having dinner with his mum.

DAMIAN: And Rob told us to fuck off.

SHUN: Don't know what to tell you, mate.

He's itching to get back to his track. He's in the zone, and being interrupted while in the zone feels
almost like being interrupted while getting a blow job. He feels cock-blocked, but like, -artistically-. And
this isn't a project he can work on in front of them.

NEIL: O-M-G. Your room has a better view than mine does. Damian, we should take the pictures here,
look.

DAMIAN: Huh. Not bad.

Wonderful. Neil is taking off his shoes and making himself comfortable on the sofa. Shun thought he had
made a decent effort at setting boundaries, of enforcing the importance of privacy in his routines, but
clearly, Neil has other ideas.

Shun briefly considers just telling him to fuck off, but telling Neil to fuck off somehow feels like telling a
puppy to fuck off. It's just not done.

NEIL: We should order room service!