Champagne Taste

6

"So what do you do in your free time? Which, considering what you've told me so far, you seem to have a lot," Tim asks.

Avi shoots him a glare. "Just so you know, I'm not a snobby rich person," he says. "Anyway. I spend most of my free time arranging music... Or writing it. I play guitar, and a little piano. Sometimes I play at small coffee shops and stuff."

"You said most of your free time," Tim argues. "So what do you do with the rest of it?" He asks, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Avi smirks, pushing back stray hairs behind his ears. "The other half? I use that time to look up boys on the internet."
---

"So are you like, a player or something?" Tim asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

Avi almost chokes on air at the question. "Why the hell would you think that? I'm not like that. You're placing stereotypes on me."

Tim wouldn't admit it, but he was guilty of placing the stereotypes on Avi. But who wouldn't? He was from New York, and he was rich.

"Ok, ok I'm sorry," he apologizes, pulling up to the familiar bar that was mostly fully occupied on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

"What are we doing here again?" Avi groans, slipping out of the truck.

"I have practice," Tim answers flatly, shutting the door to his truck and walking in with Avi behind him.

The rest of the guys were already on stage, seeming to wait for Tim.

Avi watched them practice closely, hearing things in their arrangements that needed to be worked on. But he wouldn't dare say anything. They would probably think that he though he was too good for them.

"Um, wait.. If y'all just..." He went on explaining his suggestion in further detail.

The band exchanges glances, shrugging their shoulders and nodding as they tried the suggestion Avi had made.

His idea worked, and they all like it.

"Well city boy, it seems you've got an ear on you," Rob says in the microphone.

"Wait a minute," Tim smirks against his mic. "City slicker, did you just say y'all?"