multifandom oneshots/preferences

lv. deskmate--joey jordison part 2

a/n: thanks to pigliarjester for reminding me this one existed and that i left part 1 on a cliffhanger <3

"Shit, I gotta think about this," Joey hums. He thinks for a few seconds. "Wanna get something to eat?"

"Eh, sure," you shrug. "My treat, though."

"Good try again, Y/n. You're still coming to the shows."

"I've accepted my fate, rest assured," you chuckle. "I just want to repay you for getting the CDs."

"Fine, fine," your friend huffs. 

You go to a little hole in the wall restaurant, where a middle aged man behind the counter beams when seeing Joey. 

"Joey Jordison! It's been a while!" he greets. 

"Hey," Joey gives a smile in return as he leads you to sit next to him on the counter. 

"Who've you got with you?" the man flashes a smirk and scans you.

"I'm Y/n. Joey and I go to school together," you introduce yourself and shake the man's hand. 

"Seems a bit more like you skip school together," he jokes. 

"Just this once," you shrug. 

Joey shakes his head next to you with a smirk, so you pretend to smack his dumbass face and push his head away a bit as he cackles. He orders a few plates of appetizers before the man behind the counter leaves you alone. When he disappears, the music changes from slow, easy listening music to a metal station. 

"So you bring all your dates here?" you joke.

"Oh, is this a date now?" Joey raises an eyebrow. So that's what the real estate on his forehead is for. Man's eyebrow muscles lift pretty high. 

"No, no, I just got the vibe your middle aged bestie thinks this is," you sip your drink. 

"Hm, okayyy," Joey scoffs incredulously. 

"Listen, if you took a shower, I might consider it. But not while I look like a frozen corpse and you're a 50's greaser."

That was a close one. In truth, you really aren't opposed at all to a date with Joey, but it's not like now is a good time to admit that.

The man returns again with two plates of apps before retrieving another plate and placing it in between you and Joey. He talks to Joey for a few minutes about his family and how they've not seen each other in ages, all the usual white people stuff. 

When he leaves you two alone again, Joey turns to you. 

"We might also have a few shows here," he informs.

"On what stage?" you quirk an eyebrow. 

"On the floor."

"The floor?" you repeat for clarity.

"The floor," Joey confirms. 

"Just checking," you hold up a hand in reassurance. "How much do you get paid per show?"

"Depends on how many people come."

"That sounds very uncertain," you muse. "Is this lucrative enough to continue pursuing?"

"Eh, the money doesn't really matter. Most of us grew up dirt fuckin' poor anyway, so we'll survive no matter what. Besides, we're still in high school and we have time before we're released to the world."

"Huh," you hum and take a bite of food. 

"What?"

You hesitate for a moment. "I'm sorry if that came off condescending. I just grew up where something that wasn't lucrative wasn't worth chasing."