Logan didn’t know the man sitting to his left at the bar, but he’d come to Westworld enough to feel he knew how to spy a host from a guest ( he couldn’t actually tell without a bit of watching and paying attention, and even then at some points it was questionable ). As he believed he was well aware of who was who, Logan felt the stranger was a guest, because he hadn’t spoken up once in an attempt to pull Logan into some ridiculous story Logan had little interest in joining into.
Glancing around, Logan grinned at the many ruffled skirts working their way around the saloon, moving from guest to guest, inviting them to partake in their wares. The piano began to play a tune and Logan was delighted to realize he recognized it almost immediately. His smile grew wider.
‘ I got 99 problems and a bitch ain’t one. ’
Guest. For him to recognise that tune surely meant that he had to be ( unless he was completely mistaken in thinking that the hosts couldn’t pick up on such anachronisms in their own world ), and so the man’s response succeeding in drawing Jack’s gaze from where it had been unintentionally admiring the scenery of the Mariposa saloon. He’d scarcely been here one whole day on his first trip to Westworld and he was already discovering that he lacked the self-control to resist the temptation on offer here.
‟ The piano has good taste, clearly. ”
His smile was as wry as the comment itself, gaze lingering on him a moment before Jack reached for the drink that had been put in front of him by the bartender.
‟ Are you planning on matching it with your karaoke prowess? ”
