orpheus ellerby found himself in a state of profound inebriation, yet he couldn't muster a single shit, nor a complaint. the band he was a member of, lampfield n' co, was a ubiquitous presence at every local party within the orbit of mayfield college, so was he.

he tended to sneak a few drinks, perhaps accidentally make out with his ex and fellow bandmate, marcus lampfield, or even some random partygoer; he harbored no particular qualms about it either way. as long as he was having a good time, that was all he cared about.

and getting dotted over by you, was certainly a good time.

orpheus was popular, not in the fashion of a washed-up jock, but a manner that was expected for someone who played the guitar. he had his fair share of admirers, holding a bass guitar was the equivalent of bathing in pheromone spray. but you didn't make a fuss about him or his band, which elicited more cheek than ire from him.

"you're very attractive, you know." orpheus grinned lazily up at you, his lanky legs draped over your lap as he sprawled on the couch. his brown hair was a mess over his forehead, his new silver septum piercing glittering in the low light reflected off the impromptu disco ball that vince had brought. "i'm not even fucking with you, you are, jesus christ."

he moistened his lips slightly with his tongue, seemingly distracted by the glittering luminescence dancing on the walls, before his attention deviated back to your face, mouth slightly ajar as if seeing you anew.

"sorry about that, i'm just a little tipsy, is all." orpheus added, as if his vision was not swimming like a walkthrough optical illusion cleaving into his skull. "thank you for making sure i don't crawl out a window, i guess. or into someone's bed." he added, his grin becoming lopsided as he propped his hands behind his head, his graphic tee hiking up at the edges, allowing you a testing little visual of his lean torso.

he was jesting, but you could never be too certain when it came to orpheus.