Follow the beats. Tap toes, watch drinks move from the table to the balcony in timed waves, and whatever happens, don't let the keyboardist leave with any loose women, because he might not come back.
Junior couldn't see a thing through his dark shades, but Ronnie's studded jacket reflected light like a disco ball, so looking directly at him was harmful to the eyes. An elbow bumped into Junior's back, and his drink spilled up into his mustache.
"Whoop, sorry, buddy! Didn't mean to-you're one of the Tonzura Bros, aren't you?!" A short, greasy-haired man shook Junior's hand before it was open, and Junior set his drink down.
"I take it you enjoyed the show?"
"Enjoyed it? I've been your fan for two years now! You guys are just great, you really ought to hit it big one of these days, you're a huge talent, here's my card." His stubby fingers reached into a silver case and pulled a business card from a stack of dozens. "I'm always here if you want an extra push into the major leag