Remembering a Friend

[Sebastian]

Roman Mordvinov

Roman paused at the description. The fuck? That was Bas he was talking about. Kid seemed cocky but not in an in your face way. Whaddaya know. Bas had a friend. He'd seen Bas less those last few months. He had been moving up the ranks and didn't have as much time as he'd used to. Seemed Bas had found some companions to pass the time with.

Something tickled his memory. Was kinda hard to piece together. He was still high and a bit drunk. Their last conversation, tho. His last words to Bas. The warehouse. He'd remembered Bas had asked about it for a friend. Was this him?

Proya, it seemed, felt like looming again. What is wrong with this guy? He was all for flexing and shit. All that alpha male stuff. But Proya seemed to be itching for a fight. And not for any good reason he could see. Calling this kid a butt-boy was asking for trouble.

"Calm down, Proya. The kid's a friend, it seems."
He looked at the other guy. A word came to mind and he laughed. "His weasel buddy too."
He clapped the guy on the shoulder to show it was good natured. Sort of. He didn't particularly like the guy. Where blue-boy here was hanging as if nothing bothered him, mouthing off smartly, the other guy was silent. Gotta get noticed, son!

He smiled. "Bas was my boy for years. We go way back. I'll drink to him."
He looked at Proya and jerked his head to take a chair. "Mind if we sit down?"
he said, not really asking, since he already had pulled a chair up. "This pretty little thing is Holly,"
, he said indicating the girl. He flashed her a warm smile, as if to say it was all good.

"And this other, prettier little thing is Yuri. You might recognize him from the Bolshoi."
He smirked at Proya. "And I'm Roman Mordvinov."