@thecassnova
Generally speaking, he hated parties. All the attention of music and obviously illegal things happening, it drew in the eyes of the law enforcement in the area. Most of which knew Milo by name, and were looking for a chance to catch him off guard. Normally he’d stay far from the aftermath of pressing palms with the ones who bought his merchandise, but not being happy made for a man with little to lose. Still, he felt almost like a chaperone. He stopped a mess from happening outside between some younger men. He held a girls hair for her while she threw up. It was a serene time with people he knew little of. His friends thought it was a nice gig to make him some more cash, putting him in a room of college students who wanted favors, but he didn’t sell anything he didn’t trust in the hands of the buyer. When he finished chaperoning he was milking a beer in the kitchen, looking over a land of dips and chips spread across all the counter space. The bitter liquid tasted better with every sip, so of course he’d downed nearly three since he’d arrived. Of course he also told himself he needed it to survive the night.
The party was raging on, though less problematic than before. All the early drunks and trouble makers had dispersed, leaving the mingling crowd of mellower people behind. Much to his liking, that meant he had more of an opportunity to successfully find someone to offload what he had left on him for the night. A couple grams of smokable herb not included. Milo finished off the bottle in his hand, leaving the brown glass on the counter in pursuit of leaving the kitchen and seeking company, but it seemed his choice of company came to him instead. As he pushed off the counter the blonde entered the kitchen, and it instantly put a smile on his face. “I didn’t expect you to drop by, if I’m honest.” Milo pressed his palm into the counter ledge nearest to him, halting his forward motion. “Did you come in here to see my beautiful face, or are you here for a beer?”
