[The shift is subtle, almost imperceptible, in the atmosphere between them. Out of necessity when dealing with her temperamental family, Mai has learned to read the room better than most-- though goodness knows she uses that skill to encourage more mischief than peace outside of the estate grounds. Still, she can't put her finger on what part of her seemingly harmless question rubbed away some of that earlier exhilaration.

A story for a different day... But stories abound already, Nana. Far too many for there to be truth in all of them, but enough that any person more impressionable than Mai would no doubt find themselves drawing some unfair conclusions.

While Mai has a pretty smart mouth, she's at least not stupid enough to needle Nana about something she very easily brushes off with a smooth brandishing of her mic.]

Hmph. Just because you're old-- [ not "older," Mai wants that distinction clear!] --doesn't mean you get to boss me around.

[But she wouldn't be Mai Zen'in if she didn't (begrudgingly) do as others asked of her, especially if it was a request from someone whose company she wanted to keep. It truly was a curious habit of hers, hanging around strong personalities in attempt to fluff her own ego a little bit. They're always the talented ones, too, if she really stopped to self-reflect. Talented and quick to recognize Mai as a dutiful if not troublesome lackey. A lot in life she's far from fond of, even as she sets her glass down with an exaggerated display of annoyance and walks over to where Nana has set the songbook from earlier. It's easy enough to find. BLAST. Mai runs her finger over the print; no one else she knows can boast an original song offered at a karaoke lounge.

Once the code is entered, Mai takes her seat again on the center of the sofa, right where she has a perfect view of the show to come. She crosses her legs idly, and pays no mind to the drink melting in her hand.]

All right, Miss Rockstar. I'm ready to be blown away.