'Scare me? Pfff, no.' he scrapes his throat.
'Oh for reeeals? I can't go without this stuff, if shampoo wouldn't taste so bad I would probably drink it.' he laughs and whips his hair. 'Why thank you! You're quite a goodlooking guy yourself.' he winks at him. 'Is there a girlfriend or boyfriend who claimed you yet?' he leans on the sink.
'And how I wish I was. America just needs to discover the art Jay Trubel makes with his guitar and silky voice.' He playfully waves him off. 'But for reals, I'm a singer songwriter, and rock music is my jam. With a hint of indie input by myself.'