[ For someone who claims he's not jealous, he's sure thinking about being jealous a lot.
Eddie keeps up her wide-eyed routine, rolled up onto one hip on her chair and her elbow braced on the table so she and Tommy are nearly shoulder to shoulder. It makes it easy to keep half an eye on her original table, on the way Gareth isn't even trying to pretend he's not watching them, a look on his face like he's sorting out a puzzle.
As long as he holds his horses for a little bit longer, she doesn't care what he gets up to.
She huffs dismissively. ] When all you can afford to rent is a shitbox above a liquor store, you have to get used to a certain amount of B&E.
[Joel doesn't think anyone should get used to a 'certain amount of B&E' but maybe that's just his nice quiet backwater talking. Meanwhile Tommy doesn't seem to mind the attention at all and slides Eddie's new shot over to her before bothering with another. Joel's left to reach for his own.]
Sounds like shit, [Tommy says.] Music pays that little?
She murmurs a quiet thanks to Tommy for passing her a shot, but she doesn't lift it to her mouth immediately, running the tip of her finger around the rim absently as she gives him a wry grin. ]
Music pays fuck-all, [ she agrees, then shrugs. ] It's better, now, but yeah. Metal's not really a big scene, and with me as the frontwoman...
[ They might be more popular if Eddie wore short skirts and big platform boots and strutted around the stage wailing about love and loss, but that's just not who she is. She wears big boots, yeah, but they're usually tucked into tight jeans, and she does strut around the stage occasionally, but usually she stays more or less put so she can focus on playing her guitar. The love and loss stuff is real enough, though. She's trying not to think about Joel's kid listening to the songs she's written about fucking, though. That's awkward. ]
Thing are looking up, though. I mean, it's not every day I get to meet fans in the wild. [ She winks at Tommy, well aware that neither of them are fans in the traditional sense, then turns her bright grin back on Joel. ] So what's it gonna be? You gonna try and tell me you're busy tomorrow night?
Oh I am as busy as the day is long, [Joel draws, his look so very dry at her attempts to talk him into a concert that he has no interest in seeing. Metal isn't his scene and he left behind pining after girls with guitars a long time ago.]
Liar. [Tommy takes his own drink, coughs once and shakes his head.] Joel doesn't have a life, just a daughter and work. And I know neither of those things would be a problem tomorrow night.
[He gives a tight-lipped look at Joel, like, man, come on. Joel sighs.] I'm gonna listen to that record of yours tomorrow and if it isn't appropriate, we're out. [A dad's excuse but Joel knows that he's already given the inch that will lead to the mile.
[ Eddie may not have a big brother of her own, but she knows exactly how it feels to have someone you love sell you out and it makes her laugh quietly as Joel scowls at Tommy for telling the truth about his social life.
She folds her lips together and bites down to stifle a much louder laugh when Joel lays down the law, his response so painfully dad-like she she can't help but be endeared.
And also a little worried. Only a handful of songs she writes actually talk about sex, but she's never been a very subtle person. She's pretty sure nothing on the setlist for tomorrow has any f-bombs, though. Even the one song about getting off is pretty vague about the details. It'll be fine.
She turns her head to look at Tommy, knowing she looks triumphant. Because she is. ]
You'll come see me tomorrow night, won't you, Tommy? Even if Dad over here thinks we're not appropriate.
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Eddie keeps up her wide-eyed routine, rolled up onto one hip on her chair and her elbow braced on the table so she and Tommy are nearly shoulder to shoulder. It makes it easy to keep half an eye on her original table, on the way Gareth isn't even trying to pretend he's not watching them, a look on his face like he's sorting out a puzzle.
As long as he holds his horses for a little bit longer, she doesn't care what he gets up to.
She huffs dismissively. ] When all you can afford to rent is a shitbox above a liquor store, you have to get used to a certain amount of B&E.
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Sounds like shit, [Tommy says.] Music pays that little?
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She murmurs a quiet thanks to Tommy for passing her a shot, but she doesn't lift it to her mouth immediately, running the tip of her finger around the rim absently as she gives him a wry grin. ]
Music pays fuck-all, [ she agrees, then shrugs. ] It's better, now, but yeah. Metal's not really a big scene, and with me as the frontwoman...
[ They might be more popular if Eddie wore short skirts and big platform boots and strutted around the stage wailing about love and loss, but that's just not who she is. She wears big boots, yeah, but they're usually tucked into tight jeans, and she does strut around the stage occasionally, but usually she stays more or less put so she can focus on playing her guitar. The love and loss stuff is real enough, though. She's trying not to think about Joel's kid listening to the songs she's written about fucking, though. That's awkward. ]
Thing are looking up, though. I mean, it's not every day I get to meet fans in the wild. [ She winks at Tommy, well aware that neither of them are fans in the traditional sense, then turns her bright grin back on Joel. ] So what's it gonna be? You gonna try and tell me you're busy tomorrow night?
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Liar. [Tommy takes his own drink, coughs once and shakes his head.] Joel doesn't have a life, just a daughter and work. And I know neither of those things would be a problem tomorrow night.
[He gives a tight-lipped look at Joel, like, man, come on. Joel sighs.] I'm gonna listen to that record of yours tomorrow and if it isn't appropriate, we're out. [A dad's excuse but Joel knows that he's already given the inch that will lead to the mile.
Damnit.]
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She folds her lips together and bites down to stifle a much louder laugh when Joel lays down the law, his response so painfully dad-like she she can't help but be endeared.
And also a little worried. Only a handful of songs she writes actually talk about sex, but she's never been a very subtle person. She's pretty sure nothing on the setlist for tomorrow has any f-bombs, though. Even the one song about getting off is pretty vague about the details. It'll be fine.
She turns her head to look at Tommy, knowing she looks triumphant. Because she is. ]
You'll come see me tomorrow night, won't you, Tommy? Even if Dad over here thinks we're not appropriate.