When Jack uttered that almost disbelieving word, Kirley nodded, not really thinking a whole lot about it, “Oh yeah. Always am, really, but now more than ever. The whole lot of us are,” he sometimes spoke without thinking about it a whole lot, and it was only then that he considered he might not be supposed to say things about it to random blokes that worked in music stores.
“Thanks for that tip. I do that sometimes, but more often than not I pick them up here or there. Spread the business around a little, I suppose,” he said with a bit of a shrug. Cheaper didn’t matter much when he probably had enough in his bank account to buy out the entire stock of the store several times over. Being a popular musician paid well. Especially when you’d been playing and popular for as long as he had. Really, as much as he spent, Kirley was still a lot more frugal than a lot of people thought. He had enough money saved up to buy whatever the hell he wanted.
It was only when he started speaking very quickly, gushing even, that Kirley quirked an eyebrow. He’d been doing so well at acting like Kirley was just another bloke coming in off the street. He had to give Jack a bit of credit. A bit of a smile quirked up his lips, “Hi,” he chuckled softly, “I’m glad you like our music. It’s what we live for. So, you know, it’s nice to have it appreciated. I am used to dealing with crazy fans, but a lot of cool ones too. Unlike some of my fellow Sisters, I don’t freak out among our supporters.”
He figured if the guy was a fan, and he’d been so cool about it, then what the hell, he might as well offer, “Not to sound conceited, but would you like an autograph, Jack? Or tickets to the next show? Something? Really, you’ve saved my afternoon with these strings, so it’s the least I could do.”