Truth be told, a Michael Jackson cover night would be fabulous. Ariel's drunken mind did its damnedest to hold onto that idea to say something to Jack and everyone else at a later date. But then it was distracted because Mao was talking again and then doubling over with laughter. The older boy folded his arms across his chest, the cup now cradled in the crook of his elbow and against his chest. Of course, when someone else was dying of laughter and wheezing right next to you, it was difficult to keep a straight face. Ariel grinned.
"It's a very heavy cross to bear," he replied over Mao's laughter. Then he cocked his head because all of a sudden the drummer's body language went from dopey and languid with alcohol to rigid and defensive. Of course Ariel knew what Wyrd Haven was. Everyone did. Sure, it was kind of surprising to find out Mao had a power (but not that surprising, for some reason) - but, that's sort of where the drunk boy's mind stopped. He hid the small shock well, however.
After all, for all his happiness and sunshine outlook, Ariel wasn't immune to reality. He faced enough shit every day as a boy who a) wore bowties and b) was obviously gay, that he knew, in a very small sense, what it was like - the discrimination. And though he knew he was priveleged to not have a power, to not have (many) people afraid of him just because of a difference, he didn't want Mao to think he was in any danger for divulging where he went to school.
Ariel smiled at the younger boy and in an attempt to lighten the mood again, he said: "Word."