Mac smirked and pushed his hair out of his face. "I have a band," he said casually, tilting his head a bit to the side and reminding himself not to brag too much. "My guitarist actually owns the record label we're signed to, so he sort of rents out my songwriting abilities to other bands now and then. That's what I'm working on now," he said, tapping the end of his pen on the notepad.
If there was any stranger in New York City that Frederick could probably safely talk to, it was Mac. He was about the nicest person anyone could run into. Usually that meant he was the one who got taken advantage of, but it didn't mean he was suddenly going to turn jaded and reclusive. That would be dumb. Besides, he didn't see anything wrong with talking to another person who had an interest in music. Those were, after all, the best kinds of people.