Who: Marco, Damon, OPEN (multiples welcome) When: Afternoon Where: The volleyball court
Marco was fine with his room, and appreciated not having a roommate, but when it came down to it, he could have slept anywhere. Case in point, he had laid down in the middle of the volleyball court in the sand and had been there half-asleep for at least twenty minutes already. He'd wanted to go down to the beach, but there had been warnings posted that he couldn't go down to the water, which was a shame. But the volleyball court had sand, and it was sunny, and if he closed his eyes, he could always pretend, and try to sleep rather than think about how fucked up it was that he'd chatted with Juliet about beaches so many times, and she wasn't even here to enjoy it.
He folded his arms behind his head, ignoring the sand that was now stuck to his arms. He hadn't thought to lay down a towel, but he'd at least changed out of his usual hoodie and jeans into swim trunks and a painfully bright Hawaiian shirt. The clothes he'd found in his room had been weird, but he kind of liked how tacky the shirt was, and it was super comfortable, and too hot to still be trying to cover up his track marks. It didn't matter at this point, right? Everyone knew his business, and if anyone was avoiding him, it wasn't because his arms looked gross.
Now that he thought about it, he would have been okay if he had done his whole detox in this place. It was like Sandals or Beaches or whatever the fuck that resort that he had seen commercials for was called. Club Med? That sounded more right. He wondered if those places really worked.
Whatever. He wasn't at Club Med, he was here, in La isla de Zenith, with an octopus. Yaaaay.