[ Eddie considers whether or not she should bristle playfully at being obliquely called a cliche, but he's not wrong. She is a cliche, and she embraces it. There's nothing wrong with that, not really. She's mellowed out a lot about the concept of selling out and following trends and being authentic over the last few years. As long as you're happy, then that's what's important in her book.

She picks at a hole in her soaking wet jeans. ] Borderline. I'm to take it easy for the next few days. [ Which probably isn't going to happen, as everyone around here knows. Eddie's on stage nearly every night. There's no such thing as taking it easy when you're on tour, not when you're the talent.

Tommy keeps himself perfectly still and breathes with the focused rhythm of Stevie on her worst days, which is what prompts her to shift a little closer so their elbows are touching, a little point of contact he can easily lean into or lean away from, depending on how he's feeling. ]

My uncle served in Vietnam. [ Not the same thing, she knows that, but similar. Enough that she gets it, at least a little. ] And yes. My tattoos express the fact that I'm cool as fuck and have incredible taste.

[ She's obviously joking, her eyes twinkling as she smirks at him, inviting him in to join in the joke. ]