Mac's gaze rose as Martin did and he lifted his eyebrows as well. He wasn't tiny at his five-foot-ten height, though being a little doughy make him seem shorter. Still, he always found himself looking up at people. But damn, Martin was something good to look at... He almost didn't hear the question. But it registered, finally, and he nodded a bit dumbly. "Yeah," he said. "Ever heard of Dead Like Diaries? My lead guitarist was on the cover of Rolling Stone last month," he explained. "Rough job - always moving, always working, and we don't have roadies to carry our stuff for us so we do it ourselves. That on so little sleep and it pretty much kills."
He spoke with that cool, detached air - like he didn't really care about what he was saying, like it was no big deal. But mostly he was just too busy watching. Sure, he had a weakness for attractive men and women and he tended to me more attracted to the people he wasn't used to - like charismatic farm boys. Huh. Maybe he saw, for a moment, what Evan liked in those handsome, manly types.
Not enough time to dwell on his thoughts - no matter how starved his mind was for a nice normal fantasy for a changed - because the doctor came around the corner and he heard his name spoken in a way that didn't make him cringe the way other people speaking his proper name did. He turned and paid her a smile in return, holding out his hand to her. "Mac," he replied, "Nice to meet you. And thank you so much for letting my friend switch things around. I'm just in New York for a day or so and you come really highly recommended."