Rhys was hammered. But that wasn’t really a big change for the Coltrane boy nowadays; he’d been getting better, but then that whole fiasco had gone down at the studio, and now he was back in the gutter. Rhys was pretty much resigned to his fate. He was going to be one of those street performers, rapping until someone recorded him, posted it on YouTube, and somebody like Ellen got ahold of it and gave him a shot at a real career. He’d show them. But anyway, Rhys was staggering through the crowd, his breath reeking of booze and the lunch he’d heaved up on some side street. He had plans to get even worse later if he could help it, which was part of the reason behind the upchuck - go big or go home, right? He was only meandering through the Times Square crowd because he didn’t want to be the first one at the party, and because he’d wanted to spend a little more time with the flask of whiskey tucked away in his coat pocket. He barely realized that he’d collided with somebody until they were already apologizing, and in his dazed state, his mind could only focus on one thing; Zaki. He’d bumped into Zaki. Rhys remembered their previous exchange, how he’d been so mean to him just because Zaki had been upset. Rhys knew it had been the drugs he’d been on, that was the real reason he’d gotten so defensive. Zaki would understand if he explained, though. He always understood. Before he could even think about what he was doing, Rhys grabbed the other boy and tugged him into a hug. “’m sorry called you Scroogey - you’re not a Scrooge, you’re so pretty. I love you, okay? You’re — you’re ‘m favorite — ”
He’s just about ready to scoff at well known face but the rather warm ( too warm for his liking honestly ) hold catches him off-guard. Last he’d checked Rainbow Dash and him hated each other, mostly hated each other — sometimes ( usually when the other was stoned ) Faris could tolerate him a little more. Nearly choking at the saliva running down his throat, Faris’ mouth twitches into a sly smirk. “Scroogey...,” he mimics in a high-pitched tone. Really? He’d left for a little bit and Zaki and Rhys had gotten even gay-er. Was that even possible? “Appreciate all the love, baby. But one, you’re a little too pasty for my liking — think ‘bout a tan, Coltrane. And two, you’re..., still gay. Even gayer than before actually. Didn’t think it was possible but you did it. Congrats, Scroogey.” He mocks the male as he pulls from his embrace, with a comedic pat to Rhys’ shoulder. “So you’re already at ‘I love you’s’, when’s the surrogate pushing out the babies?”
