[ The teasing makes a smile tug the corners of his lips, a pleasant warmth, but the question derails any internal debate about how to respond in kind, appealing directly to his default sincerity instead. He considers it in earnest, finally returning to his own drink and sipping slowly as he thinks about how to word things. ]

It's strange, but you made it sound real. When you sang it, I actually believed you'd seen that much of the country. [ Whether it's actually true or not, he hasn't the slightest clue, but he believes at least that this guy can sell a performance. ] And you made it sound like it might be enjoyable to come along.

[ It's a little bit of their reality filtering in now, the faint actual knowledge that one could in fact do worse than Len for company along an unfamiliar road--but he doesn't let himself think of it in terms like these when they're traveling with the convoy, and he's still deep enough beneath the surface of the dream not to be thinking about that now. He pauses, steeled a little by the drink, and lets himself be bolder in his candor than he thought he could. ]

Besides, I've seen that album cover. You're a lot easier on the eyes.