[ Eddie is positively beaming as he takes the headphones back. Maybe Steve is telling him what he wants to hear, but it doesnāt matter, because it but it doesnāt seem like he's faking it. Steve listened to the entire song and didnāt even use the guitar interlude as an excuse to duck out, and that means something to Eddie. It's small, but it's important and Eddie isn't going to forget it.
Heās made music, this music especially, an enormous part of his personality. Even here, far from Indiana, the remnants of its influence are apparent. He still wears his hair long, still wears rings and black, and heās paid more than one visit to Nocwich to add to his tattoo collection. The connection between him and metal is there and itās always going to be there, but most people have viewed it as a negative. And to hear it sounds like you in a positive way? Kind of nice. Really nice, actually. ]
You knowā¦
[ He tilts his head, turning that magnificent Walkman over in his hands once more, and he doesnāt know what compels him or what makes him connect this moment to another, but Eddie who seems to share so little about himself that isnāt D&D or his encyclopedic knowledge on music unless his death is involved, chooses to willingly disclose something about himself: ]
I, uhā¦I nearly had a record deal once. Or a chance at one. Senior yearāfirst senior yearāthis big shot record producer out in California liked our demo and we were supposed to audition for him. Kind of fell through. Annnd I donāt know why I just told you that.
[ Itās not that itās embarrassing, because it really isnāt. After all, he didnāt fail. He didnāt even get the chance. Itās disappointing it fell through so royally, sure, and maybe his luck would have improved if he were in California, but itās just another one of those things he holds close to his chest. It just doesnāt seem worth mentioning when it never went anywhere. But Steve is sort of in his world now. He listened to the music, got something out of it, and now he has the key. ]
Sorry, man, Motormouth Munson. Just canāt stop sometimes.
no subject
[ Eddie is positively beaming as he takes the headphones back. Maybe Steve is telling him what he wants to hear, but it doesnāt matter, because it but it doesnāt seem like he's faking it. Steve listened to the entire song and didnāt even use the guitar interlude as an excuse to duck out, and that means something to Eddie. It's small, but it's important and Eddie isn't going to forget it.
Heās made music, this music especially, an enormous part of his personality. Even here, far from Indiana, the remnants of its influence are apparent. He still wears his hair long, still wears rings and black, and heās paid more than one visit to Nocwich to add to his tattoo collection. The connection between him and metal is there and itās always going to be there, but most people have viewed it as a negative. And to hear it sounds like you in a positive way? Kind of nice. Really nice, actually. ]
You knowā¦
[ He tilts his head, turning that magnificent Walkman over in his hands once more, and he doesnāt know what compels him or what makes him connect this moment to another, but Eddie who seems to share so little about himself that isnāt D&D or his encyclopedic knowledge on music unless his death is involved, chooses to willingly disclose something about himself: ]
I, uhā¦I nearly had a record deal once. Or a chance at one. Senior yearāfirst senior yearāthis big shot record producer out in California liked our demo and we were supposed to audition for him. Kind of fell through. Annnd I donāt know why I just told you that.
[ Itās not that itās embarrassing, because it really isnāt. After all, he didnāt fail. He didnāt even get the chance. Itās disappointing it fell through so royally, sure, and maybe his luck would have improved if he were in California, but itās just another one of those things he holds close to his chest. It just doesnāt seem worth mentioning when it never went anywhere. But Steve is sort of in his world now. He listened to the music, got something out of it, and now he has the key. ]
Sorry, man, Motormouth Munson. Just canāt stop sometimes.