whiskey, smoke and aces high

It's too bad. When did it get cool to be so sad? We're spinnin' backwards, did we all go mad?
Yeah, we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses,
So stop and sm?ll the fucking roses

Remi, in an effort not to appear needy and desperate, has thrown his phone onto the bed and is refusing to look at it until he's answered at least 3 jeopardy questions right in a row. That's why, by the time he reads Ronin's text and then checks the timestamp, he realizes he has about 12 minutes to get to the sandwich shop that's a 15 minute walk.

"Fuck!" Hauling himself off of the couch, Remi races to his closet. "Merda." He grumbles, tugging on a cable-knit sweater that screams DAD-MATERIAL rather than Cool-Boy-Band, before dashing out the door.

The fact that he's been doing more cardio doesn't prepare him at all for the 15 block sprint, and it's lucky for him that it's drizzling so that he can pretend the dampness in his curls and down his spine isn't entirely from being out of shape. Pushing open a door that boasts a cartoon submarine and stepping into a world of Beatles' puns, Remi pushes a clump of curls from his face as he looks around.

Oh, and you guessed it: he absolutely forgot the jacket.

ThE RoCkStAr