“We should go see him—“ Avi realises Aquila has left the room. “Babe?”
From the hall, “Changing! We should meet him as he knew us.”
The new mayor considers the story, slightly sadly. “I’m sorry about your friend—“ But she’s interrupted by Avi, “You wanna come, right?”
“...Yeah.”
Avi look her over. “Do you have anything more formal you could go put on?”
Avi undresses, throwing his brown t-shirt over his desk chair.
The Mayor looks down at the purple cardigan and pink shirt she’s wearing, and annoyedly declares “This is my formal! I’m the Mayor, not a— not a jazz musician!”
“Well, okay, but if anyone asks, we’ll just say you’re our new intern.”
“Honey, don’t pick on the Mayor.”