"Synth," Suguru says, considering that option. "We'll try it on the run-through, but I think I see it." And she trusts Satoru to know her music, and this isn't something Satoru is going to sabotage, if she's talking about Grammy's.

She sucks in her breath when Satoru raps her knuckles against her stomach, going still. Satoru was always so touchy, so clingy, and Suguru had forgotten that. It doesn't bode well for her that just such a simple touch makes her break out in goosebumps.

She pulls her hair out of the bun, the silky strands falling to her waist as she shakes them out. She steps in closer to Satoru, smirking up at her.

"I'll be the best company you could have on stage," she says. "Better than anyone else you've shared it with so far. Or you could share it with in the future." She might not have Satoru's stunning fame, but she's no slouch. "Don't forget, you're sharing a stage with me now. The Grammy's won't be any worse."

She pats Satoru's cheek and blows her a kiss.

"Be back in a few hours."