It hadn't been hard to convince Louis to show up to this little event. He was working as a waiter - a waiter, for fuck's sake - and although his boss hadn't been too happy to hear that he "needed a couple days off to deal with family issues" she hadn't complained too much. Not more than he could easily tune out, anyway. Besides, when was the last time he'd been able to hang out with three of his closest friends all at once, without anyone else around? Quite long enough, as far as he was concerned. He'd set aside two days worth of tips for "provisions," which had been packed rather haphazardly into his car. A bottle of Jameson's 18-Year Reserve whiskey had been first on the list of things to obtain. He'd brought a few snacks of course, as well as a very special vintage Atom Ant lunchbox. Inside it, he carried a triple-wrapped plastic bag with a good $80 worth of weed inside, as well as his smoking stuff from home, including a lighter, rolling paper, a pipe, and a little glass bubbler.<br/><br/>The afternoon had been beautiful, and the evening promised to be just as gorgeous, with a nice breeze coming in off of the lake. Louis had been perched on the cooler Melanie was currently moving around, but now he was just coming back from a trip a few yards into the woods, zipping up his fly as he reentered the clearing. He chose a different seat, settling himself down on the other end of the log Kyle was currently lying against. He wasn't one for shorts and sandals, usually, and had worn clothing in his typical style: a pair of well-fitted dark jeans, sneakers, a light blue tee shirt with a soccer camp logo on it (a relic from a summer job in highschool) and a darker blue plaid button-up shirt, the first button undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His swim trunks were rolled up inside his sleeping bag along with the other miscellaneous stuff he'd brought along.<br/><br/>He nodded slightly at Melanie's comment, glancing at the little joint she'd pulled from a pocket - at least, he assumed it was a joint. Probably a fair assumption too. As Kyle called for a beer, he grinned. "If it's that time already..." Standing up, he moved over to his still rolled-up sleeping bag and pulled the bottle of Jameson's from the very center of it, waving it as he rejoined the little group again.