my llama

As My Llama took their first set break, I leaned over the the table and talked as quietly as a noisy pub on a Saturday night let me.
"So, does anyone else think they sound better now?"
Phil laughed and Maria and Kathleen nodded their heads emphatically.
"They haven't sounded this good since that night Grant was hopped on cough medicine and doing insane things to his bass," Kathleen said.
We were laughing at this true statement as the guys walked up to the table, slightly sweaty but with huge smiles on their faces.
"So, we're awesome right?"
"And so humble," I said, giving Tod a huge hug. "But yes, awesome. If I didn't know you already, I'd probably throw myself all over you and vow to be a groupie forever."
"Sweet."
"I'll be a groupie," Maria said, draping herself across Grant and planting a kiss in the middle of his stuck-on grin.
"We were just talking about what a great addition you are," I said to John.
"Thanks," he replied. "These guys are great. Makes it easy to play. And this crowd!" he gestured to the packed pub. "I mean, I've played some gigs that were one step up from a funeral. A good crowd also makes it easy."
We pulled up some chairs to the table and I went to see Lance about some more drinks. As I stood at the bar waiting, I turned back to watch my friends chatting and laughing. I noticed Tod lean toward Phil and Phil shake his head. Tod's helium mood deflated slightly as he craned his neck and scanned the pub. Unconsciously I balled my fist, wishing Pete's face was within punching distance, because I knew that was who Tod looked for. Because Pete had never missed a gig. Ever.
"Here you go Gia."
I turned and grabbed the tray of drinks. "Thanks Lance."
When I turned around I had to tighten my grip on the tray and thank heaven that my nerves had gotten stronger over the years because speaking of the devil...look who'd walked in the door.
"Hey Lance," I turned back to the bar. "Better give me one for Pete too."