Oh shit, the music. The music is going to be really close if they're all shoving themselves into the same seat on the bus, isn't it? Bash lets out a groan, thunking his forehead into the center of Lucas' chest for a long moment.

"Or -" He frees one hand in order to better raise it for more effective pointed suggestion. "We could change our identities and go off the grid. Maybe run away to a small fishing village in Alaska. Or pretend to have temporarily lost all understanding of the English language."

But he's already off and tugging the both of them in that direction, even as he continues to list alternative options with varying degrees of potential applicability to reality. Because the music can't be that bad if Lucas is willing to go and face it with him.