whiskey, smoke and aces high

bandcamp

A lot's been changin' lately and I can't tell
If it's me or if it's everybody else

Remi pretends to look offended (10% of it is genuine, music theory is much more interesting than motorcycles, just ask anyone), but accepts the cigarette. The smoke is smooth against the back of his throat, and he lets it linger there for a moment before tipping his head back and exhaling decadently. 'You say that now...' He hums menacingly; should Ronin look closely he'll find his name in scribbles on Remi's god damned walls, and the musician will be ready and waiting to remind him of this conversation when he asks about it.

'Wore the hell out of that jacket.' Remi snarks childishly, as he shoves his phone back into his pocket. "She is. You'd like her." Only then does the musician realize the truth of this, and though it causes some of the butterflies in his stomach to die, it causes others to float up into his throat. "Yeah, or...I guess she sees me often." Remi answers, itching at the back of his neck. "She'll facetime me and just tell me to leave my camera on while I'm at home even if we aren't talking." Taking another puff of his cigarette, Remi plucks it from his lips with a shrug. "Sometimes I swear she has cameras in my apartment, with the number of things she knows about me." Then, hastily added because of the things done by the two men in said apartment: "She doesn't though."

At least...he was pretty sure she didn't. If only because Vai didn't even believe in having a microwave inside her house, but less surveillance equipment.

we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses
So stop and sm?ll the fuckin' roses

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!