(Weston and Marshall) “for once, i need you.”
“Do you now?” Every last member of the group was leaning in toward the center of the table, where there laid a complicated game board with intricate rules that everyone in the room only half understood. They’d decided to play somewhere around their second round of drinks. Scarlett was currently passing around their fifth. Marshall’s eyes didn’t bother to leave Weston’s as he flipped through his collection of cards, pretending to weigh his options. The remainder of the group was growing visibly uncomfortable. Not that either of the two men would notice. They were far too busy facilitating their weird affection into a friendly competition.
As he dropped a card onto the table like a grenade, a symphony of ooooooohs arose from the others. Marshall simply reached across the board and flicked Weston’s game piece off of the table and onto the floor, where it was to sit as a symbol of his defeat. This evoked cheers from the drunken crowd, all ecstatic over the take down of the player in first. He lifted Weston’s hat from his head and onto his own, some sort of power move by a tipsy man.
