She was begging him to say something, anything. He wracked his brain, trying to think. "I don't know, Querida..." he really didn't. Poor girl was probably upset, but he really didn't know. "You do realize that I am way too old for you and probably the worst person you could get involved with, don't you?" he'd always seen himself as such. She was nineteen for God's sake! He was twenty-six! She needed to be with someone her own age, instead of a geezer like him.

"I'm hungry..." he muttered, once again, the mood was killed. He pouted, wondering how many more times he was going to have to start the car, only to pull over and stop again. Zaera was probably ready to call the cops to find them. Knowing the younger of the duo, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. Zaera did have tendency to worry, especially with Ismael who was known to get drunk and end up in odd places... such as the top of the Empire State building, growling at the police helicopters like King Kong.

His phone buzzed and levitated out of his pocket and he knew right away who it was. "Are you ever coming home or will I have to send a search team out after your rotting corpses?" Ismael winced at the imagery, his brother always did have a way with words. "If you don't, I'm going to eat all this disgusting crap Americans call 'takeout'." That was classic Zaera, a side to his baby brother Ismael hadn't seen or heard from in a while. He was probably holed up in the room, working on something pressing.

Maybe it was another one of Ash's unfinished projects, he thought he heard Zae-Zae muttering unflattering things about mullets in Spanish.