Agrus and Garen share a collective eye roll as the singer performs, both of them wearing unimpressed stares [color=DarkRed]

"Wonder how much they paid him to write an entire album about guests at a random party?"[/color] the red haired athlete mutters, somewhat louder than necessary and received a chuckle from his literary companion. 

[color=454922]"Probably more than I make in a year on royalties,"[/color] Garen replies coolly under his breath, [color=454922]"And keep it down. Mister Acheson basically owns me, if we offend his choice in music he might stop publishing."[/color]

[color=DarkRed]"As if you don't have enough to retire."[/color] Agrus retorted, flashing a charming grin at a passing lady all dolled up in a peach-coloured dress..

[color=454922]"Unlike some people, I plan to have a family some day.”[/color] Garen chided his cousin, subtly turning away from the scene of his cousin flirting with a stranger..

[color=DarkRed]"Please, I've seen the book signings. If you wanted to a wife you would have one by now."[/color] Dark red dreadlocks swung slightly as the man waved a dismissive hand in his cousin’s face and scoffed.

[color=454922]"I said eventually. I'm not going to settle for the prettiest fangirl to throw herself at me. Remember what happened when you tried that?”[/color]

Agrus scowled darkly at Garen, turning away from the young lady to face him. [color=DarkRed]"You promised never to bring that up again."[/color]

[color=454922]"She sold half your wardrobe in a virtual auction."[/color] Garen reminded him idly, pretending not to notice the angry look on his shorter cousin’s face as he gave a polite smile to a pair of passing gentlemen.

[color=DarkRed]”Shut up. How was I supposed to know she was a stalker?”[/color] The dreadlocked man grunts angrily. Not bothering to wait for a reply, he abandons his cousin, strutting off towards the bar. Dropping into an empty seat, he flagged down the barkeep. [color=DarkRed]”You got rum?”[/color] he asks bluntly.

“Yes, sir.” the man responds politely, receiving  half nod back from Agrus.

[color=DarkRed]”Know how to make bumbo?”[/color] He requests, turning towards another guest at the bar. [color=DarkRed]”So, nice place, huh?”[/color]

Across the room, Garen stands in front of a large portrait, pretending to observe it as he ponders the possibility of requesting a tour, looking for an excuse to probe his patron for opinions on his bibliography. [color=454922][i]”Probably should. Can’t hurt to know what the guy who prints this stuff thinks about it.[/i][/color] With that thought, he turns and makes his way towards his host, waiting a moment for his current conversation to end before introducing himself. [color=454922]”Excuse me, Mister Acheson, but I don’t think we’ve met.”[/color] the brown haired man says, [color=454922]”My name is Garen, you own the company that publishes my books.”[/color] He extends one hand to shake, smiling politely. [color=454922]”If you don’t mind, I was interested in that tour.”[/color]