He saw the chair and took the invitation. Once he planted his ass down, he looked over the guitar in her hands properly. He admired its color. It was a nice piece. His fingers itched to touch it but he kept his hands on top of his jeans. His legs stretched out, ankles locked. "That was more than a bit. It sounds like you've been practicing. It ain't perfect but I've heard worse by people who thought they were hot shit." There was nothing worse than someone who thought they were all that just to find the moron could only play a few chords. Billy knew he wasn't an expert but at least he wouldn't brag about it.
Much.
He shrugged at her question. Touring made it sound like he was interested when in reality, there was just nothing else better to do. Maybe this place was worse than Hawkins after all. "I don't need to look for trouble. It has a habit of finding me. But I can just as easily get out of it. Nobody can keep me down ...for long at least." He felt compelled to add that last part. His ass had hit the ground more than once and by people he hadn't expected.
"This place is boring as hell. How do you even manage to stay entertained for longer than a fucking minute?" He watched her pull something out and lifted an inquiring eyebrow. "Watchya got there? A new vending machine treat?"