Roger
Blaine wasn’t quite sure how to spend time on a stolen yacht run ashore on a random uninhabited island without a charged cell phone. Blaine had planned to scroll through dating apps where his biographies said things like, “I’m rich, what else matters?” And most of his profile pictures had at least two other blonde white men with sweaters tied around their shoulders in them so as to potentially attract more swipes intended for his much more attractive friends. However, given that his phone died mere minutes after arriving on the island, Blaine had been rummaging through the pristine yacht cabin in search of another method to calming his nerves before the big meeting with Seb. The “big meeting” of course, was what Blaine arbitrarily decided was going to be a conversation about him becoming business partners so that Blaine could enjoy the spoils of white collar crime. In reality, Seb planned to take the yacht as a nice freebie and hit Blaine with a “new phone, sorry... who’s this?” the next time that Blaine contacted him, but of course, he didn’t expect Blaine to carry out the theft without dangling a little fake incentive over him.
