"Well..." She chuckles. "Brendan has his insane moments. But he's more Randy's friend than mine. He's really very sweet, though," she says, in an attempt to backtrack, because for all the strange things the British architect has done, he's always been supportive of the both of them and she doesn't want to be speaking ill of anyone.

She fumbles with the keys to the Forester -- he's only had it for a few months, so it's still flawless and she'd like to keep it that way -- before she checks the trunk. Randy got all the band gear, and they're leaving the luggage in the car, but there's one more box he doesn't know about and she just smirks to herself. Her best friend is in for a surprise.

"Besides, I wouldn't blame you if you called us a little crazy, we do work in Los Angeles after all." A small, impish smile as she hefts the box and then closes the trunk. "Not really your kind of social scene, is it?" she comments. She's kind of observant like that.