“—and what do you call that? She’s so off pitch that—”
“What are you watching?” Albert interrupted GB’s rant, looking dubiously at the act playing out on the television.
“Eurovision,” GB answered. Albert waited, hoping for some elaboration despite GB’s tone implying that that one word was the only explanation necessary. GB finally glanced over after the silence stretched, an edge of incredulity on his face. “You know, Euro…” he trailed off, gaining the faintly guilty expression everyone wore when they’d forgotten when, exactly, their teammates were from. It was quickly replaced with determination, and he motioned for Albert to sit with him on the couch.
“The Eurovision Song Contest,” he began gravely, “is the most important event of the year. You see…”
It took until GB got to the contest being a replacement for war, his studied tone laid over a backdrop of glitter and Europop on the television, for the ridiculousness of it all hit Albert. He covered his mouth to hide his chuckles, trying not to interrupt the history lesson.
To no avail; GB cut himself off with a delighted grin. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”
Albert let his hand drop. “It’s because of your way with history.”
“Wait until the voting and I’ll tell you how it reflects our geopolitics.”