“Mmm,” he intones thoughtfully, scrunching up his face and tilting his head. “Not so sure you can get fired for that. Not when I know for a fact that Higgins is popping pills in his office on a daily bass just for the hell of it. Not a whole lot of room to judge after that, you think?”
Don’t ask him how he knows. He will be taking no questions at this time. In fact, he glosses over it and skips baack to the more important subject at hand: music.
“Yeah, well, judging by the slim pickings in this box?” He rattles the shoebox to prove his point before he shoves it unceremoniously beneath the seat again. “I believe that.”
He and Robin have some overlapping taste. In fact, he suspects the Van Morrison tape belongs to her. Eddie would never pretend he’s too good for mainstream acts like Bowie and Fleetwood Mac, but given the choice, he’d much rather gravitate to his own carefully curated tape collection.
But his interest has been piqued, and with a wide grin, he leans just a little further into Steve’s personal bubble.
“And what does Steve Harrington like? If you’re not afraid of my judgment, that is.”
"Well I wasn't until you mentioned it and now I think maybe I should be." He replied, eyes narrowing with another brief glance towards Eddie, especially as he leaned in closer.
He did, however, shake his head, since it wasn't like he'd actually have to deal with that judgment for anything more than the time it took to get back to town, just ticking off on his fingers as he listed, "Springsteen, obviously." Though it was only when he said it that he realized it might not be obvious, "Cyndi Lauper, Bon Jovi, Queen, and I mean, Dolly Parton, of course."
He shrugged then, "And honestly? I've actually liked any of the stuff Robin's thrown in the box, some of it's weird, but it's not like I go out of my way to avoid any of it."
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no subject
Don’t ask him how he knows. He will be taking no questions at this time. In fact, he glosses over it and skips baack to the more important subject at hand: music.
“Yeah, well, judging by the slim pickings in this box?” He rattles the shoebox to prove his point before he shoves it unceremoniously beneath the seat again. “I believe that.”
He and Robin have some overlapping taste. In fact, he suspects the Van Morrison tape belongs to her. Eddie would never pretend he’s too good for mainstream acts like Bowie and Fleetwood Mac, but given the choice, he’d much rather gravitate to his own carefully curated tape collection.
But his interest has been piqued, and with a wide grin, he leans just a little further into Steve’s personal bubble.
“And what does Steve Harrington like? If you’re not afraid of my judgment, that is.”
no subject
He did, however, shake his head, since it wasn't like he'd actually have to deal with that judgment for anything more than the time it took to get back to town, just ticking off on his fingers as he listed, "Springsteen, obviously." Though it was only when he said it that he realized it might not be obvious, "Cyndi Lauper, Bon Jovi, Queen, and I mean, Dolly Parton, of course."
He shrugged then, "And honestly? I've actually liked any of the stuff Robin's thrown in the box, some of it's weird, but it's not like I go out of my way to avoid any of it."