Needle and Plate were standing in front of the Schiphol Airport terminal and looking around. The sun softly illuminated their faces. Plate was holding a smartphone in his hand, ready to take another selfie.

— If you're going to take a picture every time we approach some building, our phones will run out of battery before our arrival in Berlin.

— I just want to remember this moment! — Plate replied, taking another photo. — How else can you prove that you were at the airport?

— I guess a boarding pass could work too.

After having gone through security, they headed for the boarding gate.

— Imagine, in a couple of hours, I'll be standing in an iconic bar playing fresh records. It’s good that we managed to catch the flight. I was already picturing us taking the bus there.

— You remember how our last trip ended, don't you? — Needle pulled Plate’s leg. — You forgot your backpack at the bus stop, and then you chased the bus through the streets of Amsterdam like an action hero.

— I caught up with it, don't forget, — said Plate, laughing.

— By the way, before the bar, I want to stop by a tattoo artist I know. I need to freshen up an old tattoo. — Needle mentioned looking at the map of Berlin with interest.

Plate nodded, mentally selecting tracks for his set. They exchanged understanding smiles, and the plane began to gain altitude.