[She's poppin' candy over here and he's going to just about stop in his tracks. Y'know, the way one does when there's a moose blocking the road to the schoolhouse or the waves crash high and angry into the lighthouse and anyone with a brain just knows there's no other way to handle that particular force of nature. Chloe can have the dang beer.] Highlands? County? Are we in th' River Valleys?

[For once, he's not sure if his voice carries well over the crowd but it's not small, either. It simply lacks that booming quality and maybe not having a white-knuckled grip on that bottle makes for easier mobility; there's a second wind to him and he's standing as straight as he knows how and if he weren't abso-fucking-lutely wasted he might just pass for sober.

His eyes are focused, they're searching her for maybe the first time since they've met. That's him-- mister self-preservation.] Wait, wait, waitwaitwait. I just need t'get Downeast and none o' the aces here wanna let me know how to get there. [Okay, so that bit was loud, but he's also not necessarily feeling generous towards the fat heads that had brushed him off when he'd been near tears just a day ago.

Jerks.] Crabapple Cove, Maine. I'll, I'll even take Portland. I'm suppos'd to be in Portland.