She'll fucking love it. [ He can picture the mutual squealing and enthusiastic jumping involved in a conversation between Alexis and Phoebe if they're talking about Taylor Swift, and while his ears might never recover, it's an endearing image and he can't help but smile at the thought of it. It's sweet, and it makes him tug her just a bit closer to him as they're looking over the song book. ]

Shallow's a great song but I don't have that kind of fucking range, let's go with Don't You Want Me.

[ He's not a terrible singer but he's not a particularly good one either. It'll be a nightmare either way, but he figures the two of them attempting a poppy 80's song with his grumpy growly voice and her bubbly one is sure to at least be entertaining. He takes a long drink of his beer as if it's going to somehow help, and let's the bartender know which song they'll be performing.

He figures they'll have a bit of time, maybe someone else will be up next but apparently the bartender recognizes him and thinks he's doing him a favor by letting them go next. The Bon Jovi guy exits to a round of drunken applause and the stage empties out for the two of them. Roy reaches for her hand and nods once, steeling himself for disaster. ]

Shit. Okay. Fuck it, you ready?