Key isn’t kidding about keeping Joey close. In the isolation booth, he pulls up a stool next to his so they can share a music stand. It’s bad enough they’re reading off the same sheet music, but now Joey has to lean into the same microphone as the Deej, too. Damn, but it’s hard to concentrate when such a sexy man is only inches away from him.
All the photos he’s seen online and in magazines, all the posters hanging on his bedroom wall, all the videos and award show footage he’s watched, everything pales in comparison to the real thing. DJ Key has a commanding presence in person, and his voice is smoother, richer, deeper than Joey could’ve imagined. The CDs and MP3s he’s spent hours listening to over the years fail to do it justice.
The man’s skin is flawless, Joey can’t see any flaws on
