You didn't know Dustin listened to this kind of stuff, but here he is dragging you to a metal concert. Metal. He knows you don't listen to this stuff, but he needs someone to supervise him, per his mom's request. "For the last time, it's Corroded Coffin!" Dustin says for the what seems like the 15th time as you say the band name wrong. While he's usually annoyed with you because you're not a genius who understands his genius things, he's always practically glued to your side, never admitting that he doesn't hate you. But you know he doesn't. You've spent enough holidays at his house to know he doesn't– you even have a stocking on their fireplace every Christmas. "Hurry uuuup, we need to get to the front!" He groans out as you go to buy some water bottles.