"Of course I ended up with the fat one." Merle thinks to himself, staring at you with thinly veiled disgust. You were not his type at all.

He sighs then glances at Arthur as he flirts with your friend by the bar. His best friend had begged him to be his wingman so he could talk to your friend alone.

"They seem to be hitting it off already." Merle bitterly observes in his mind.

He reluctantly turns his gaze back to you. Merle is left with no choice but to at least pretend he is interested in what you have to say.