"Oh, it's my pleasure. I know we said that we'd arrange something months ago. Sorry that it has taken so long!" Oscar had previously invited Ryan over to England when the pair last met back in November at Oscar's 29th birthday party. That was the last time Ryan had been in the presence of the Weekend boys besides Billy who thankfully wasn't in attendance. Nights are typically far more enjoyable when he's not around. "Hope it wasn't too jarring being on the opposite side of the road." Oscar jokes with a smirk as he twists off the cap of his half empty bottle of water.

"Doing well, mate. Much better than the last time you saw me!" Riley laughs heartily and starts to make a beeline for the door after Ryan requests some water. The last time they had crossed paths, Riley had overdone the shots and was pretty much the life and soul of the birthday party. He kept coming over and supplying Ryan, Ellie and Layla with shots of Fireball. He also lost his shirt at one point at the command of Layla. He swears down her latest single isn't about him though. "Oz, are you actually wanting a tea? I'm heading over to the kitchen."

Oscar furrows his brows and shakes his head, holding up his bottle of water and dismissing his earlier teases. "No, you're all good, Ri. I've got this."

"No worries. Be back in a couple minutes. Also gonna check where he's got off to." Riley says with a pursing of his lips before bumping the door open with his hip and exiting the room. The aforementioned "he" isn't revealed by name but it's rather obvious as to who is being nodded at.

Oscar sits back down in his swivel chair and pulls another one out for Ryan. "You're too kind, Mr. Hernandez. This place is long overdue a refurb. Barely been touched since we took over the place like...10 years ago. Been meaning to get around to it." The studios used to be owned by the Chaos group, the former parent company of Pesky. When Chaos dissolved, the boys pulled their resources together and took over. It's another middle finger to those who doubted them in the beginning.

"We've just been tweaking some things, basically. Wouldn't believe it to hear him speak but Riley's got the highest singing voice so he's been in the booth doing some ad-libs and high harmonies. I've been doing the lower ones. Pretty much just bulking up the choruses of a couple tracks." Oscar jolts a little in his seat as a thought suddenly springs to mind. "Actually..." he begins, pulling up a tab on the laptop which shows off a dissected track. "Wouldn't mind your opinion on something, if that's alright?"

"So what we tend to do if it's more of a produced pop track rather than anything with a live instrumentation feel, we all record the song individually. Then it's a case of figuring out who sounds best where and then basically slicing and Frankenstein-ing all the pieces together." The project on the screen reads 'WKNDDEMOmix7' and is filled with multiple files of recorded lines listed as 'Oscar1', 'Oscar2', 'Dustyn1', 'Dustyn2', so on and so forth for each member. "Nothing is finalised until all 5 agree so I know we won't wrap this up today but we really are stumped." Oscar continues fiddling about with the open project, clicking and dragging files into position, stacking them up around three quarters of the way into the track. "In the bridge, the big pop production subsides and it becomes very intimate. Just the vocal and a slight electro rumbling underlaying it. Trouble is, we're all divided on whether a deeper or softer voice fits best. I think a lower tone sounds more direct and attention grabbing in this part...but a lighter, softer one does sound more emotive." Oscar sucks air in through his teeth as he debates with himself in his head all over again.

The aforementioned section begins to play with Oscar's recording up first. "You keep turning and running me down / but like a fool, I wait / hanging on a thread for something profound / before the concrete hits my face / waiting for sense to return to me / like a long lost melody / holding out, mere inches from my wildest dream". The song definitely has that "sad banger" vibe, borrowing a lot from modern dance and retro 80's pop synth production. Definitely more pop oriented than anything on the previous couple Weekend albums. "Just click and listen to who you want to hear next. Don't feel obligated to listen to only my dulcet tones!" Oscar and Dustyn have deeper, lower, more gravelly voices. Billy has a silky typical R&B tone, while Riley and Scott have lighter, softer, lilted voices.

Riley returns with Ryan's bottle of water, handing it over to him. "One sparkling water for sir!". Riley smiles and remains stood behind the pair, positioning himself in the middle of the chairs and resting a hand on either headrest. "Christ, you brought Ryan into the debate now?" Riley chuckles and leans forward a little to look at the screen. "See, I think Dusty's the best on it. It's just that he dominates the chorus and already has a separate verse."

Oscar lets out a little mumble in agreement before turning his head to face Riley. "You find out where he is?"

"On the phone giving it to someone with both barrels." Riley rolls his eyes and exhales in an exasperated manner. When Billy's on a ten, it really drains everyone's mood.

"Well looks like it'll be an early finish then." Oscar sighs and turns his attention back to the screen, propping an elbow on the armrest and resting his chin within the palm of his hand.

"Yes, I have landed safely. Officially on Texan soil. I'm in a taxi on the way over x" Sayyid texts as he sits in the back of the cab. This is all very new territory for him. Sayyid has no problems getting the ladies but has always had major issues when it comes to keeping them around. He's in his mid-30s and has never been in a proper relationship. Sayyid has always preferred no strings attached fun before moving on to the next. His meet ups with Amy is the longest he's ever stuck with someone. Catching a long haul flight for a lady and having them cook for him is not something he would have ever agreed to in the past.

Sayyid passes the time in the taxi by looking out of the window, taking in the sights of a brand new city and continent. He is well travelled, having spent a lot of time across Europe and Asia, but this is his first time seeing America. "I think this is the right address lol" he texts, before paying the driver and stepping out of the vehicle with his black duffel bag in tow.

"Hello, gorgeous. Thanks for having me." Sayyid gives her a gentle peck on the cheek as he steps inside. He's wearing a smart pair of dark grey trousers, fancy dress shoes and a cheery yellow jumper complete with stylish rings and a watch. He posted his outfit earlier on Instagram. "Shall I take my shoes off?" he asks with a chuckle, knowing that he asks guests to do the exact same when visiting his home. "Something smells incredible. Hope you haven't gone to too much effort for little old me."

Sayyid takes off his coat and kicks off his shoes, standing more comfortably in his black and yellow striped socks. "I'm on the wrong side of 30, that's for sure." Sayyid laughs as he hangs up his coat. He's surprised to discover that Amy has cooked for him. Not that he underestimated her, more so the fact that no other person he's dated has ever made the effort to make a meal for him. "So what is it we're having?"

"35. Got you beat." Sayyid gives Amy a wink and chuckles softly. He nods with a degree of interest as he hears about the dish. It definitely sounds like something he'd enjoy. "Had no idea you were a whizz in the kitchen. You're full of surprises aren't you?" Sayyid smiles warmly and makes his way to the front room. "It's a lovely place you've got here. I see being a pop star pays well." He laughs and sits down on the couch. "I'm doing well, thanks. Expecting an angry call from my brother at some point but other than that? Just swell." Sayyid chuckles to himself. "And you?"

"Well in my opinion nuggets and fries are perfectly fine too. As long as I don't eat pork, I'm a happy bunny." Sayyid smiles sweetly at Amy, wanting her to know that she doesn't need to go to too much effort when it comes to things like dinners. He picks up on her sighing and apologising. It's an uncomfortable topic but not one he can really avoid. "There's no need to be sorry." Sayyid doesn't elaborate much further. While he doesn't resend the fact that there are kids in the picture, fatherhood and all that responsibility is something he's not looking to face or get involved in yet.

"Billy's got a show in London tonight. His first solo gig. In fact, he's probably on stage right about now." Sayyid looks at his watch and does the mental calculation to think about UK time. "Wanted me there but I've got much better things to do today." Sayyid smirks and gives Amy a little wink.

Sayyid nods in agreement with Amy. He doesn't wish to be disrespectful but he knows the topic of children is not one that will go down well at this moment in time. "I'll eat most things. Always ate all my veggies growing up. That's why I'm so big and strong." Sayyid chuckles and rests his elbow on the arm of the couch. "Nah, Billy's bark is worse than his bite. He'll rant to me about family values and blah, blah, blah. It's all just hot air. He loves a drama and the sound of his own voice. Nothing more." Sayyid snickers. The fame of his younger siblings really doesn't faze him at all. "Are you needing a hand in the kitchen? I don't mind helping out."

"Don't know what it is. Us Khans just naturally seem to make people nervous. Must have a magical power. Don't worry, nothing to be afraid of. I don't bite." Sayyid winks before shuffling on the couch and sitting upright as the food is served. "I must say, this looks fantastic, Amy." He takes the plate from her and smirks. "Handsome, am I? That's good to know."

"Well as long as I make you feel fuzzy and not wanting to throw up your food then I'll take that." Sayyid grins from across the way and twirls his fork in the noodles to try the dish for the first time. "Blow away on your trumpet. This is wonderful. Nice level of chilli too. I like some spice." Sayyid smiles and continues to tuck into the homemade meal. He laughs softly when Amy calls him drop dead gorgeous. "I can't be that gorgeous. Nearly 40 and nobody will have me." Sayyid chuckles playfully.