i hate peas.

"No I don't know, didn't know comic book shops had that kind of potential." She casted a glance at the guy while she slowly moved down an aisle of new comics out that week. She wasn't into them, but she had read a trade paperback that was actually pretty good so she figured maybe she could find something else that might pique her interest. "Okay…is that a superhero or what, kid. I'm a little out of my element." The addition of 'Im not a virgin' she had the manners enough to keep to herself.

"I'd say that's the very definition of Rosewoodian," he smirked, given the town's history of the weird and weirder. Hell, they had a stupid death olympics every ten years so why couldn't Mallrats have the potential? "He's a man... made of chainsaws," Pete shrugged, not exactly the king of explanations. "Ah, a tourist... You want recs or you looking for something specific? Arden would probably be more helpful but she's unfortunately blown her back out... If anything I'd suggest avoiding the back wall. That's where the fedoras congregate around the weird shit so your feet might stick to the floor. "

"Oh, right—" Kenya nodded, as she began to laugh. "that's definitely what it is." She said, before playfully rolling her eyes. She liked to think the answer was more that Pete and Kenya didn't really have the social batteries to endure these sort of functions. They just didn't care to listen to a bunch of small talk, particularly when it came from the one percent. But at least tonight was a gathering of the worst people they knew for a really great cause. One, she herself had donated to earlier that evening. "As all self respecting mean girls in Rosewood do, so points to her." Kenya turned her attention back to her boyfriend, twisting her lips. "You know, as much as I want to relish in this utterly embarrassing moment for him... I kind of want to dance. With you."

"You reckon Cohen counts as a minion?" Pete pondered aloud. "Maybe I can get into the underground mean girl meetings and get all the spicy intel..." He was joking of course, not interested in much more than minding his business and being left alone. If that was what made him so 'scary' then so be it. At least it guaranteed that no one was dumb enough to try and make moves on Kenya. When dancing was put on the table his shoulders slumped a little and he let out a strained grumble. Dancing was one of those things he didn't really do, perhaps because it drew attention and he'd never wanted that. He knew he was fighting a losing battle though, because Kenya was the complete opposite of that spectrum and loved it. "It's not enough that you get me in a suit, now you want me to dance? What's next? You want to take me home too?" he teased, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose gently and holding out his hand. "Do whatever you want with me, babygirl."

"Know who?" Kenya looked over her shoulder, in the direction in which her boyfriend was looking. "Wait, I do know who that is." She let Pete know, her eyes lighting up. "Oh my god, that's Joey Donner. Major asshole." She explained to him, before wincing at the slap the aforementioned major asshole received at the hands of who she could only assume was his actual girlfriend. "Remind me again, why is it we don't come to these more often?" She asked with a laugh.

Given Kenya's choice of a more private social standing since he'd met her he often forgot that she'd once been one of those people who knew everyone. Looking on at the scene unfolding, he laughed perhaps a little too loud at the other guy's misfortune. He didn't care though, it wasn't like he didn't deserve everything he was getting. "Because historically speaking we're not that great at clean fun," he smirked at her, a double entendre though he was referring to their dates that involved things like paintball and sweating it up at live gigs. "I was gonna say we should help her out but she seems to have minions so... we can get closer to point and laugh in his face if you want."

"Yeah yeah, I'm joking." Totally wasn't his intention to invent anything either, but whatever, they kept it moving. "You got a knife but not a lighter that works?" He pulled one from his pocket and tossed it to him, wondering for a second if he was just about to smoke and not light the table on fire or something.

"Knife is perpetual, doesn't run out of juice," he shrugged, "and my girl hates it when I smoke so it's a good way to avoid it." Stifler's concerns weren't wrong though, because Pete wasn't trying to smoke at all - instead he started waving the flame over the etching on the table, charring parts as a way of colouring it in. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna burn the place down. Fire looks better at night."

"They don't." Kenya replied, as she was pretty sure that was the last thing her boyfriend was commonly referred to as. But she was fortunate enough to have seen that side of his more often than not. "You'd better." She urged him, as she wasn't going to let some business bro try to claim the table without forking over some cash in her boyfriend's direction. "Whatever." Kenya found herself laughing at Pete's reaction to hearing she'd willingly came to the country club. "Maybe your girl is attempting to expand her threshold for... well, this." She said, referring to everything happening around them. "It's always the puppy dog eyes, he sure has a way with them." As even Kenya had fallen victim to those eyes once before. Sure, she wasn't exactly best friends with Cohen but time had definitely healed some of the wounds between the two. "I can endure that line once more, for you, of course."

"I mean, I'm the last person you gotta try and justify that with," Pete sucked his teeth and glanced around, "landing my ass in the High School Musical 2 and Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition crossover was not how I have ever envisioned spending a weekend." Still, as much as it wasn't their natural habitat it was made so much easier to enjoy now that he had someone to enjoy it with. "Yeah, don't tell him but he's alright," he chuckled, knowing Cohen probably would have started glowing if he'd heard even the vaguest compliment from him. It meant a lot to him too, just quietly, that things between him and Kenya seemed to have settled. "Not gonna lie, the peach one is pretty dope. I had it with sour gummies." Despite his tough exterior he wasn't afraid of a pretty drink, so when they finally got to the front of the line at the bar he made sure to specify that he wanted a little umbrella in his glass as well. "Which flavour do you want, baby?"

"Oh, you're so generous." Kenya teased with a playful roll of her eyes, the smile on her face only growing brighter as it usually did when she was in his company. "Kinda? They are the only reason I agreed to come today." Kenya let him know, with a quick wink in his direction as they both knew that his inclusion in today's events were definitely making their surroundings a whole lot more bearable for her. "Take your time," She let him know, circling around the table to stand by his side as she wanted a good look at what he'd been chipping onto the table. "you know, I wouldn't be shocked if one of these richies take a peek at this and offer you at least 10k for this table. We've seen it happen at ART BASEL, who's to say it can't happen today?" Kenya let him know, with a light shrug. In fact, if you asked her, Pete's art was priceless. "Are you really?" She asked him through her squished cheeks, pinching his nose in retaliation. "You'd be surprised to know I actually came here.... willingly. Yeah." Kenya nodded. "How big were the puppy dog eyes to get you to say yes?"

"They don't call me a saint–" he trailed off, leaving out the 'for nothing' part of the phrase, still sarcastic as ever but with little hearts twinkling in his eyes whenever she was around. "Better sign it then, huh..." As usual Kenya wasn't wrong, so he etched VERONA next to the image. He wouldn't ever allow himself to look like he was trying too hard, but she was the only person aside from his grandmother who knew how much it would mean to him to be able to sell his work one day. "Oh, shit, my bad, I thought you were my girl but she don't do nothing like this without kicking and screaming about it," he let go of her cheeks and wrinkled his nose when she pinched it. "They were fucking huge but I said yes before he started the youth pastor speech. Anyways, we gotta address this," Pete took her hand and gave her a twirl, "Just got mad thirsty all of a sudden..."

"I don't suppose there's a friends and family discount?" Kenya lightly teased, as she'd finally arrived to that day's festivities— although she still found herself asking why she'd agreed to join her sister at the worst people in Rosewood summit. But that was sisterhood, she suppose. That and she knew Pete would be attendance, which was making their surroundings easier to swallow. "Wanna take advantage of the open bar? Or should I leave you to finish whatever that might be."

"Twenty for you," Pete smirked, clearly happy to see Kenya. He hadn't been sure she was going to show but the mere chance that she might had him giving in to Cohen's puppy eyes when he'd asked him to tag along. "Not gonna lie, those things are kinda fire," he tapped on the rim of an empty cup with his knife, then turned his attention back to his little artwork, "Gimme a sec, I'm almost done." It wasn't a groundbreaking work of art by his standard, but if anyone knew what they were looking at they'd know it was Chopper from One Piece sitting in a frosé glass like Dita Von Teese in her iconic martini glass. "'kay, all yours now baby," he rose from his seat to join her, cupping her face and squishing her cheeks to make her look like a chipmunk. "So did your sister have to knock you out and bring you here in the trunk of the uber?"

Stifler didn't care about the table, they'd just get a new one, but he didn't want to hear it from his mom later how about how he'd let people trash the place either. It was a fine line he straddled, between being a cool guy, which he was, and proving he could handle the extra responsibilities he'd taken on at the club. What could he say- he was a people pleaser. "How much for my initials with a little heart around it?"

"I don't take requests," Pete deadpanned, as unreadable and uninterested as usual. "Especially if you're inventing secret admirers. Then I might just suggest therapy." He wasn't as kept under a rock as he seemed, he knew who Stifler was, but he wasn't the type to allow anyone to think for a second that he cared if they owned a country club or not. "You got a lighter? Mine's outta juice."

Alejandro let out a loud laugh, imagining that exact scenario. The internet had gotten even more creative and he was sure any recording could be played on some hilarious loop. "I'm not entirely sure what kink this would categorize as. I've never heard of a time machine kink," he joked before his eyebrows shot up. "Who said anything about being naked? Grandpa? Jesus, might as well start eating dinner at 4 and get myself one of those golfer hats. Pretty sure my kids think I'm 95 anyway."

"You're the one standing here lamenting over the past like you're on your deathbed," she pointed out. It wasn't like she didn't know who he was, she just wasn't the type to care. Everyone in Rosewood was someone, or someone adjacent. "I don't know, people who crash events seem to forget their clothes for some reason. Yeah, well, we're only as old as we feel or whatever, right? Why aren't you up there anyway?" It seemed simple to her– if you wanted something, why not go for it?

"Feels kind of weird not to be up there." Alejandro wasn't sure if anyone heard him. The edible he had taken earlier were finally starting to kick in and he was sure he had been standing in the same spot for what felt like hours even though in reality it had been minutes. The kids were with his parents and he was sure Casper was somewhere around here but he had been feeling melancholy at the idea of merely being a fan at this festival. A feeling he wasn't at all used to. "Maybe they won't notice if I just go up there. Oh fuck, that's desperate isn't it? Am I old now?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good way to get your ass banned at every event in town and your ego obliterated by the wider internet. But hey, we don't kink shame." Tomi glanced between the stage and the guy, eyes narrowed in expectation that he might make a sudden move. "Just keep your pants on at least, nobody wanna see your balls slapping in the breeze, grandpa."