Scowling, Ronan yanks the guitar away from Blue's grip, fingers curling over the tuners protectively.

"And I'm getting sick of people not minding their own goddamn business," he snaps. It's unfounded, honestly. No one's really spoken to him about Adam since it happened, just shooting him vague glances of irritation and disappointment. She hasn't really said that's what this is about, but Ronan's not a fucking idiot. Why else would she care enough to come looking for him?

"How about you tell me what is important, maggot," he says, eyes piercing. "Bequeth all your fucking wisdom unto me."