Things get off to a rough start, and Joey knows he’s to blame. His attention drifts every time he sees the Deej from the corner of his eye, and he can’t not see Key, the guy’s right there on the other side of his mic. When he sings, it’s like he’s serenading the man. It doesn’t help that Key’s smile of encouragement looks almost orgasmic, either.
The first time Joey gets all the way through the chorus without a problem, but he catches a glimpse of Key grinning and nodding, eyes half-shut from nothing more than the pleasure in Joey’s sound, and that’s it, he cracks. Or rather, his voice does, on the high note. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard, like he’s never sung a day in his life. Key’s smile turns into a wince, E-Z sniggers behind them, and Cage mutters, “f**k, man.”
“Damn it,” Joe
