Chapter TWENTY-ONE

C A L E B

I stretched my limbs the moment we landed. The flight wasn't that bad. We were lucky enough to have our own private jet, which meant being on the air for over 19 hours wasn't that bad. Back in Australia, it was almost one a.m. In Portugal, it was the afternoon.

"I can feel the jet lag already," Max sighed lightheartedly, taking off his headphones. He sat across from Archer and I, a table separating us.

Our tour manager, Andrew, was a man in his early thirties. We've known him for quite some time. "Alright boys, first stop of the tour. You all feeling okay?"