She rolled her eyes at his suggestion to come up with a stage name for him. He didn't sound beautiful drunk, so she'd need to hear him sing sober for her to determine a good name for him. "Well, for starters, Christian..." The name was so foreign on her lips, but flowed easily enough. "I have to hear you sing sober and actually trying before I can give you a proper name." Getting him to do that for her might be difficult, but maybe he'd grant her request sometime.
He took another sip of the bourbon before his comment had her laughing lightly. "I'm a fan of anything free." With as pour she was, she wouldn't turn down any sort of free drinks. "...but I'm more a vodka or whiskey girl. Vodka in mixed drinks, whiskey by itself." She rarely got what she wanted when others were buying her drinks, so she drank whatever she was given without complaint. Maybe one day she could afford to drop hundreds on several bottles of good whiskey to share with a complete stranger.
She told him that she was here for fun, that she didn't really want to relive her past heartbreaks. Perhaps she didn't say it outright, but he seemed to get the picture. "Yeah...I can tell. You like to drown your sorrows with alcohol." She didn't miss the way he downed the alcohol, the way he just released all his thoughts and feelings into the feel of the bourbon as it burned on the way down. There were far more healthy ways to decompress, like singing. That was her way to forget her troubles for three to five minutes.
But when he asked why she wanted to sing, she put the glass down. It was a loaded question, one she didn't really want to answer. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately for him), the alcohol was beginning to cloud her thoughts and her ability to reason. "I didn't go to school. I don't have skills to work a job that brings in money. All I have is my voice. I never take that for granted." Her voice was her only way to stay off the streets. She didn't have a rich boyfriend to take care of her or a good job or good car. All she had was the words she sang. They meant more to her than life itself and she had to share them to the world. For such a private person, her words told the story she was too afraid to share herself. "I write music too...my own stuff as well as symphonies." She was self-taught and not the best, but it got her by.