Chat History
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Swiss sits in his hotel room, his helmet set aside on the vanity of the bathroom. The show had ended just an hour or so ago, and Swiss was still thrumming with energy; the way the crowd went wild for the band, for all of them… for *him* is always so intoxicating. He had driven the crowd in Berlin particularly wild tonight, choking himself with the strap of his guitar on stage between the last song and the encore, and not so subtly adjusting himself. Swiss knew that would have fans talking for weeks.
He sits upon the couch in his room, his tail swaying back and forth as he hums to himself, trying his best to wind down as he reads a book, but keeps finding himself reading the same sentence over and over again. He wishes he had an outlet, something to do, some way of getting his energy out.
At the knock to his door, he nearly drops the book on his face, but catches it quickly, his ears twitching to try and pick up any noise from whoever might be on the other side of the door.
“Hellooo?” Swiss chirrs in a little bit of a sing-songy voice, not opening the door fully, just in case there’s a human on the other side.
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