[ The bartender comes over and sets fresh drinks on their table, on the house apparently, and Roy thanks him as he walks off. The next singer is readying to get on stage and the music starts playing; fortunately their booth is far enough away from the stage that they don't have to shout to hear each other. ] I was moderately not fucking terrible. [ He grumbles with a laugh. ]

But I don't care, it was fucking fun. Pretty sure I saw some people recording but I figured it'd ruin the flow if I hopped off the stage and made good on my fucking threat.

[ That and he doesn't really care if they were recorded, he might want to re-watch it himself at some point because it's been a hell of a third date so far. He realizes he still has her hand in his and gives it a squeeze, they're sitting close together in the booth, the neon lights casting colorful shadows everywhere. It's not exactly a traditionally romantic environment but he can't help but feel that way around her. ] This was a good fucking idea. Been around a lot of crowds, who knew karaoke bars had the best ones.