[Drake is running around like a madman on the quad, setting up what appears to be a large, magical garden. Large, fragrant rose bushes spring up from the grass with a flick of his wrist, quaint cobblestone paths grow up from the ground with a simple nod, and annoyingly cheery birds pop out of thin air without any sort of prompt.
In the center stands a large white gazebo, strung with twinkling fairy lights. In the center stands an unmanned string quartet, playing a classier sounding version of
Every Breath You Take.
After a good hour, Drake stands back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, and with a wave of his hand, it all vanishes. He takes out his comm and sends “Devon” a private message.]
Devon? I’m sorry about all that….business the other day. Come out and meet me on the quad. I’ll buy you a drink as an apology.