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“Should you be smoking, kid? Don’t you have throat problems or some shit like that?”
Barely holding in the startled yelp that had threatened to come out of his mouth, Sonny turns around to see Joel walking out of the same backdoor he had practically run out of earlier, a pack of cigs in one hand and a smug smile adorning his face. He doesn’t know why, but he can’t really hold the older man’s gaze for long. He looks back at the lit tip of his cigarette to avoid it.
“Don’t call me kid, you’re not that much older than me,” Sonny says, surprising himself both with how quiet his voice sounds and how long it had been since he’d had to say that to a tourmate. “And anyways, how’d you know that? Did you look me up or something?”
“Had to so I could understand why the fuck there suddenly were all these snotty kids at my shows the moment you started opening.” Joel quips, getting closer as he takes a cigarette out of the pack and puts it between his lips. “You got a lighter?”
Somehow still star-struck after everything, Sonny silently takes his lighter out of his pocket, handing it to Joel and barely holding himself together when their hands brush for just a second as he takes it.
“Now I fuckin’ hate to admit it,” Joel says, taking a long drag of his cigarette, “but your old stuff’s okay.”
Sonny hopes his face doesn’t look as excited as he truly feels. In the few months he’s known Joel, he’s never heard him say anything particularly nice about music outside his own preferred genre. Him calling From First To Last “okay” is almost like he’s campaigning for them to get a Grammy. Despite himself, he asks, “You think so?”
“I mean, sure. Whiny, wrist-slasher, emo lyrics, but it’s not… you know, bad.” Joel says, almost as if the words hurt him coming out of his mouth. Sonny quickly brings his own cigarette to his mouth to avoid grimacing. “And your singing voice wasn’t half bad, either.”
“Don’t try so hard to flatter me, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” Sonny mutters, bitterly refusing to believe deadmau5 of all people is trying to convince him he thinks his singing voice is good.
“No, like, I’m serious. I get why you had all the emo girlies lining up to throw their panties at you on Warped Tour.” Joel exhales out, smoke covering his face, making Sonny strain to see the smirk behind it. “Kinda fucking idiotic to avoid vocal rest when you knew you were the lead singer, though.”
“Yeah, well,” Sonny can’t even refute it, flicking his cigarette down to the floor and stomping on it. “there’s a reason I’m behind a turntable now, isn’t there?”
“You’re lucky you’re also a damn good musician apart from just an okay singer.” Joel says, the hand that’s not holding his cigarette coming up to mess up Sonny’s hair.
Despite knowing the teasing intent behind it, Sonny still smiles.