"I'm more than just a pretty face." If he's even that anymore. It's less important than it used to be- normally he's more bothered but there's enough tequila in him to keep him from caring- but not enough to render him maudlin. Azucar is pretty, Locus isn't weird and squirrely, and for a little while?

Shit feels normal.

That's all he really needs at the moment.

"They play music, too. I didn't know what else to do for you, so-" He reaches up and taps the little chip again, a recording of him playing that same twangy, slow tune picking up.