Daniel grins at him, and there's something boyish in the expression. Every so often there's flashes of continuity, the dopey kid at the bar. Here they are, at another bar, and he's about to be just as dopey. Worse, really, because at twenty he had pride to be ruffled, didn't want to hear Danny. And now he doesn't care. The freedom of being fucking old.

(Even if he still doesn't love 'Danny.')

"I'm a bad influence on everybody."

That's his thing.

Wrecking Ball is starting. Oh, god. It's going to be screams from everyone in here that knows the chorus.