Jamie's just been kind of wandering, the past week. When he's not busy rehearsing or doing promotional stuff with the rest of the band, he skulks around the penthouse; when even the penthouse becomes too restrictive (or someone snaps at him for his incessant pacing), he meanders Pride HQ, but he doesn't enjoy it the way he used to, because all he can think about is his paranoid suspicion that Predator probably blabbed about their stupid prank to everyone else and now every single person in the building is having a laugh at Jamie's expense. He can only pretend for so long that he's unaffected by the way people treat him, and the hazing is something that he just can't shrug off.

He's not exactly sleeping well either, which just makes everything harder to deal with.

When he gets Sora's text he's in one of the private clubs at HQ, disinterestedly pushing around a drink he ordered but has barely touched. Briefly he considers brushing off the text, because he's sick of the penthouse and Sora's been sort of doting lately and Jamie doesn't really know how to respond to that, but then he notices a group of musicians a few tables away looking in his direction and whispering to each other, and abruptly Jamie decides he can't stand being here either. At least he knows Sora will leave him alone if Jamie tells him to.

He steps into the penthouse a few minutes later and blinks slowly at the expanse of blankets draped around the living area.

"...what the hell?"