"Mmm, it's been literal years since I went to New York." Dorian takes a sip of his drink, distracted by thoughts of the city, thoughts of his past, and thoughts of the last time he actually was in New York. Was it...probably the 1940s, Christ had it been that long? He was overdue a visit.
"We're staying at the Algonquin, of course," said as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "What better place for people like us!" What better place for witty assholes who like the sound of their own voice. "As for the show, nothing Webber, of course. I'd slit my wrists before being forced to listen to fucking Cats."
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"We're staying at the Algonquin, of course," said as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "What better place for people like us!" What better place for witty assholes who like the sound of their own voice. "As for the show, nothing Webber, of course. I'd slit my wrists before being forced to listen to fucking Cats."