Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

[Bobby Drake]

It might have been on, but Bobby was starting to get drowsy. The warmth and softness of his current position, and the powerful sedation of more alcohol than he'd had in such a short time were taking a heavy toll.

"It's...on..."

He said the words, but the controller fell limp in his lap as his eyes drifted shut one last time.

[dazz]

Ali clicked through the settings on the game, setting up the third round. Aside from her comments in response to his victory, the rockstar paid Bobby no mind for a long moment. Finally, the game was ready and she looked to Bobby, a competetive glint in her eyes. Her new friend, however, didn't look so excited anymore. In fact, he looked ready to...

"It's...on..."

...fall asleep. The controller fell out of his hands into his lap and his eyes, which had been heavily-lidded for some time because of the booze, fell shut and didn't open again. The little lightweight passed out, just like that.

"Aww..."

Bobby looked almost cute as he slumped over. Her comment may have been about that, or it might have been disappointed that they'd have to wait to find out the top Virtua Fighter. Not that there was anyone to listen, but it would have been hard to tell.

A few more clicks of the controller and Ali shut the system down, tossing her own controller onto the coffee table. Carefully, she slipped out from underneath Bobby's sleeping form and tried to lay him down as gently as she could. Ok, so she might have dropped him the last few inches, but he didn't wake up. No harm no foul.

Standing up, Ali stretched for a moment, then went about her work of cleaning up. Bobby's controller hadn't fallen onto scandalous bits of his lap, so she snatched it off him and tossed it onto the coffee table as well. Console and television off, it was still pretty early for the rock star. That meant she no excuse not to deal with the mess now.

She grabbed the blanket off the floor and tossed it unceremoniously over the paparazzo. She moved his camera off the pillar of ice and put it in the growing pile of electronics on the table. The ice was the big issue now, half melted into the carpet. She managed to wedge it loose and dragged it out the back door to melt. One trip to the linen closet and she tossed down a heap of towels to sop up the mess. She could almost call it a done day, but she took one last look at Bobby, sleeping away in his drunken stupor.

One more trip and she returned to the game room with a magic marker in hand. Sure, Bobby did have his shoes off, but Ali considered him fair game. Just before retiring herself, she scrawled a scandalous shape on his cheek.

"G'night, Bobby." In a sing-song voice, she called behind her as she left the room, laughing.