Pastry
spiritually disconnected
"Nah... I've got it. My absence...." He paused for a bit. "Has gotten my build up a lot more. Anyways, I assume Zander's doing well? He's not here, is he running late?" He asked, picking up the bags, they weren't too heavy. Nixon inhaled sharply, cursing in his thoughts from how painful it was to hold these bags. Suck it up you little wimp. He told himself. "You guys seemed happy, from my point of view. Blaire's coming too, if you didn't know." Nixon didn't realize he started rambling, the only person that he ever talked to this much was Blayze or Quinn, seems nice for a change. At this point he had dropped his cigar onto the ground and snuffed it out.