We go for a wine to Sierra Bar after getting off… where succulent tapas are served… It’s the only thing that keeps us going back to that place over and over since the fried food smell and the yelling of a crowd consisting mainly of students make it really difficult to have a chat. Three rounds and we ‘re ready to leave a tad tipsy and with a full stomach. 

Bopping at Boite is called for, while Pop divas, reggaeton, and easy dance tracks are music to our ears and our loss of voice. We laugh, sing, scream, drink, and enjoy ourselves.

We get together to catch up in a terrace on Fuencarral to criticize every living being, while being well aware that we will also be criticized back. Adventures and misadventures in the capital that we embrace humorously.  

However much we laugh or loud we get when we’re drunk, regardless of how much we criticize others and have fun as if we were still teenagers around the shabbiest or hippest spots in town, what I would truly want is, as Ana War says, talk with you… quietly, like that. 

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