He waved off Seamus' apology. He wasn't actually mad, just surprised. "Oh, I wasn't meaning so much my panic as the whole thing with everyone finishing setting up the drinks and nibbles. Although I'll probably be stressing too. You can come interrupt that. Or still be there to interrupt that. It's not a calming experience for an artist, having a big show," he said, nibbling absently at his frog. "Showing you up wasn't exactly the plan. Not getting too many disapproving looks from Parkinson and making a good impression was my plan." The image of Seamus in his 'groupie' clothes in the sea of well-dressed was strangely compelling and he shook his head to clear it. There was another idea to stick on the list, the out of place person in a crowd. "I don't think you want to feed those rumours. Most people think groupies are only out to sleep with whoever. Plus it's a music thing not an art thing, I think."
"Seamus!" he half-whined. Admittedly Seamus had a point, but he rather liked the idea that Ophelia thought of him as sort of worldly and not a teenage berk with the co-ordination of a new-born giraffe. Growing fast had thrown off his co-ordination terribly for a while. "But sure, hopefully she can deal with a few stories of my idiocy. After the gala," he insisted. He didn't need her pulling faces at him across the room or something, he just wasn't used to it like he was with some of his friends.
He shrugged, he had no idea if Ophelia would cope with Dean and Seamus being more like themselves. It hadn't been long after she arrived that the show was decided on and it had thrown off the amount of time he spent with Seamus, or anyone else for that matter. "Don't hold it back. It's never worth it if you and me can't be you and me," he said after a while of pulling bits of chocolate off his frog and eating them, lost in thought. He liked Ophelia, sure, but he'd rather lose her than his best friend. He'd rather do just about anything rather than lose his best friend.