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Agrus and Garen share a collective eye roll as the singer performs, both of them wearing unimpressed stares
"Wonder how much they paid him to write an entire album about guests at a random party?" the red haired athlete mutters, somewhat louder than necessary and received a chuckle from his literary companion.
"Probably more than I make in a year on royalties," Garen replies coolly under his breath, "And keep it down. Mister Acheson basically owns me, if we offend his choice in music he might stop publishing."
"As if you don't have enough to retire." Agrus retorted, flashing a charming grin at a passing lady all dolled up in a peach-coloured dress..
"Unlike some people, I plan to have a family some day.” Garen chided his cousin, subtly turning away from the scene of his cousin flirting with a stranger..
"Please, I've seen the book signings. If you wanted to a wife you would have one by now." Dark red dreadlocks swung slightly as the man waved a dismissive hand in his cousin’s face and scoffed.
"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?”
Agrus scowled darkly at Garen, turning away from the young lady to face him. "You promised never to bring that up again."
"She sold half your wardrobe in a virtual auction." 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.
”Shut up. How was I supposed to know she was a stalker?” 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. ”You got rum?” he asks bluntly.
“Yes, sir.” the man responds politely, receiving half nod back from Agrus.
”Know how to make bumbo?” He requests, turning towards another guest at the bar. ”So, nice place, huh?”
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. ”Probably should. Can’t hurt to know what the guy who prints this stuff thinks about it. With that thought, he turns and makes his way towards his host, waiting a moment for his current conversation to end before introducing himself. ”Excuse me, Mister Acheson, but I don’t think we’ve met.” the brown haired man says, ”My name is Garen, you own the company that publishes my books.” He extends one hand to shake, smiling politely. ”If you don’t mind, I was interested in that tour.”
"Wonder how much they paid him to write an entire album about guests at a random party?" the red haired athlete mutters, somewhat louder than necessary and received a chuckle from his literary companion.
"Probably more than I make in a year on royalties," Garen replies coolly under his breath, "And keep it down. Mister Acheson basically owns me, if we offend his choice in music he might stop publishing."
"As if you don't have enough to retire." Agrus retorted, flashing a charming grin at a passing lady all dolled up in a peach-coloured dress..
"Unlike some people, I plan to have a family some day.” Garen chided his cousin, subtly turning away from the scene of his cousin flirting with a stranger..
"Please, I've seen the book signings. If you wanted to a wife you would have one by now." Dark red dreadlocks swung slightly as the man waved a dismissive hand in his cousin’s face and scoffed.
"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?”
Agrus scowled darkly at Garen, turning away from the young lady to face him. "You promised never to bring that up again."
"She sold half your wardrobe in a virtual auction." 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.
”Shut up. How was I supposed to know she was a stalker?” 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. ”You got rum?” he asks bluntly.
“Yes, sir.” the man responds politely, receiving half nod back from Agrus.
”Know how to make bumbo?” He requests, turning towards another guest at the bar. ”So, nice place, huh?”
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. ”Probably should. Can’t hurt to know what the guy who prints this stuff thinks about it. With that thought, he turns and makes his way towards his host, waiting a moment for his current conversation to end before introducing himself. ”Excuse me, Mister Acheson, but I don’t think we’ve met.” the brown haired man says, ”My name is Garen, you own the company that publishes my books.” He extends one hand to shake, smiling politely. ”If you don’t mind, I was interested in that tour.”