wishgavin

It was hard to forget someone like Mr. Gavin, of the Gavinners. He was very kind, and very distinctive, with his thick accent and overall charisma. Though she would have treated him the same even if he were less than pleasant, she found herself enjoying attending him and his group. His band wasn’t exactly her style of music, but she could still appreciate and knew to treat a famous person with the utmost professionalism.

Still, this was a surprise, having such a star actually remember her and all. She wasn’t self-conscious, exactly, but she was nothing special compared to someone like Klavier Gavin. She still tried to remain composure.

"Ah, y-yes, I distinctly remember serving your group on one occasion. How are you, Mr. Gavin? I hope your flight did go well."

Ah, yes, I’m just fine.
My friend helped me a lot.
Thanks to him I’m still alive.
The wound is still itching a bit, but I think it’s just fine.
In a few days I’m going for a check-up.