Dash chokes on his bite, and Kemper rushes over prepared to Heimlich him if need be, while the rest of us laugh and groan in horror.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Dash gasps in between coughing.
“Yea, no, I definitely deserve that.” Byron nods at Ren. “I invited you to stay in my homeandprovided dinner.” He rolls his eyes.
Ren blows him a kiss. “Love you, B.”
“Love you too,” he grumbles, smirking.
“Andthank you for the dinner,” Luthor says pointedly. “Pizza party is where it’s at!”
“Yea, California pizza is pure garbage,” Ren hums. “No offense, babe.”
Luthor gapes at him. “I don’t own a pizza parlor, so… none taken?”
Joy and Rook snort.
“Aw, pizzaparlor.” Dash grins. “That’s so cute.”
“Why, what do New Yorkers call it?” Luthor looks around.
“I don’t think we call it anything?” Velle chuckles. “It’s just a pizza place.”
“Maybe a shop?” Kemper says.
“Nice try, Missouri, but no,” Byron laughs.
“Can we please get back on topic??” Felix snaps. “We were talking about how The Ivory is paying you guys to write Alabaster Isle’s history. I think that’s incredible!”
“It certainly is cool,” Lemuel adds, offering us a curt smile.
“That mean we’re gonna see more of you, jeonsa?” Joy asks excitedly.
“Probably,” Byron replies, checking with me. I simply smile. “We only just started outlining. Rough shit, still reading through all the files he sent over. It’s a lot.”
“How much is he paying you?” Ren asks, all hubris, as per usual.
“Babe… honestly,” Luthor admonishes, shaking his head.
“It’s just aquestion,” Ren whines.
“Probably close to what he paid you for riding his dick then burning his club down,” Byron sneers.
“So four years in prison then half a mill?” Ren cackles.
“Exactly.” Byron nods, snickering. “Minus the extra year in prison. I’m getting time-served.”
“Wait, so are you gonna do this like a history textbook?” Joy smirks. “Or like smut?”
“Yea, ‘cause we know you can do the latter.” Felix smirks.
Byron suppresses his grin. “Probably like a combination of both.”
“That sounds amazing,” Rook chuckles. “Like a sexy textbook.”
“A modern-day historical romance,” I murmur.
“I’m just gonna write it the way I write shit.” Byron shrugs, smirking at me. “You can add all that poetic fancy stuff.”
