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

Still flushed, and yes, trying to appear cool and casual, Remi makes his way over toward the table. Slipping into the booth (and knocking his knee on the table in the process), he's still trying to act like he isn't catching his breath as Hallway gestures to the pile of grease masquerading as a sandwich. He almost thinks it must be a joke, but given the massive bite Ronin has just taken—and the way the grease leaves his lips looking as if he's applied gloss to them—suggests that no, he's quite serious.

'Oh, I ate already.' He hadn't, but he also hasn't been away from Italy long enough to put any part of what Ronin is eating in his mouth. Besides, if he did, he was fairly certain Vai would put a curse on him or worse, make him do a cleanse.

'Ah, I did yeah.' Realizing he's completely forgotten the jacket, he flashes Hallway a crooked smile. 'Wouldn't you know it, between the mud bath and my mandatory massage, there just wasn't time to look for your jacket." He says, bearing his palms in a placating gesture as he shrugs.

Was that Ronin's boot he just kicked under the table, or the table leg? Fuck.

ThE RoCkStAr