[ Cisco moves his hands enough that he can at least peer over them, which is worth it, to see Taako, who is looking just as flushed and giddy as Cisco is feeling. Even as the next singer goes up and starts their song, Cisco catches a few people sitting at the little tables around the stage craning their necks, looking back over at the two of them. It's flattering, and a bit scary, and wonderful. ]

Taako. Hey, Taako. Sometime when we're sober, we gotta do that again and record it and then like, full-on re-create the video. I feel like we owe it to the universe.

[ It's not something Cisco would agree to, much less suggest himself, at a regular moment. But this isn't a regular moment - he feels invincible, like he could do anything, say anything, without fear or embarrassment.

He breaks off into more giggles, actually a little shaky with happiness and the gradually fading adrenaline from performing. A man stops while walking past their table, and Cisco looks up at him, ready to answer whatever question he's got (maybe he's from a universe without Beyoncé, what a tragic thought). When the guy picks up one of the little cocktail napkins from the table and starts writing something that very much looks like a phone number on it, Cisco quickly waves a hand as if to stop him. ]

Hold up, hold up, he's taken, dude.

[ Because, obviously, this dude must be wanting to give his digits to Taako. Cisco never stops to even imagine it would be anything other than that. But the guy just keeps writing, drops the napkin right in front of Cisco, instead, then walks off with a smile and not a single word. And Cisco goes back to hiding his face in his hands. ]