Roman knew good and well that what he said couldn't be justified, at least to Makayla. His jab at Brooklyn was low in comparison to the one she'd made at him, but he could reason that he was in a more irritated mood after that. With Makayla, though, he didn't really have any real defense. He'd said it nonchalantly enough to insinuate that he wasn't trying to start anything, but he was also blase enough afterwards to prove that he didn't really care regardless. Roman could tell from the way she promptly excused herself that what he'd said struck a chord, and the only regret he had following was wishing it was that easy to get Brooklyn to back off, even though Makayla didn't really need to be backed off to begin with. While he did like Makayla because she'd never done anything to bother him and seemed to always worry about herself, which he appreciated, he didn't like her to the extent to where he really felt like he owed her anything, like his sympathy or apology. What was true was true, and he didn't think it was something to get embarrassed over if it was something you agreed to. Of course, this was him rationalizing and not wanting to admit how out of line he was. It was a shortcut excuse, and one that was easy to use as he focused his attention on Brooke, who'd turn from noticeably more tolerable to noticeably more intolerable within a few seconds.
As she went on, he slowly sipped his drink, raising his eyebrow in response as her words got more aggressive. If this were an actual argument and not all around misdirection, then he would have taken her words personally, because there was no reason being called a heroine addict would hurt more than what she was saying. But this wasn't' a real argument that was happening, and he figured she was only blowing up like this because, for one, she'd been drinking, and two because he matched her. If you asked him, he would tell you that Brooke was the one who handed out the harsher of the insults and it was he who tended to stay mild because he knew how quick Brooke could snap. This was what happened when he decided to go head to head and challenge her, and was something he avoided for obvious reasons. And while he wasn't expecting this kind of backlash, he also wasn't too phased by it. The anger Brooklyn felt over his words to Makayla were phony and just overflow from what Roman had said to her about Nick. It would be a lie to say that what she was saying had absolutely no weight on him. It stirred him enough to make him roll his eyes and grumble at her, but again, he didn't take her words as personally as he normally would have. As he was brushing most of what was happening tonight aside, like his grandparents and Cara, this was no exception and was easier to do just because it had become habitual by tonight. There was a chance it would irk him more tomorrow, but not because it was something that he'd never heard before and made him overthink it. He'd had the same thoughts, worried about his place and being in the way. He didn't like owing people anything, and he proved to not always be a good friend to Nick and Brooke when he needed to validate to himself that he didn't need them, or anyone for that matter. While tonight what he'd said to Brooke didn't have anything to do with that, her words not entirely sticking did because it was something he'd heard before. Maybe not from Brooklyn or Nick, but from himself. And he'd heard and dealt with similar sentiment from other people for long enough to where it wasn't so hard to ignore. He knew he messed up and what he did was wrong, but Roman didn't like being wrong under any circumstance, and similar to Brooke, was hesitant to ever own up to it. And Brooklyn's reaction only made it that much easier to withhold any apology he already wasn't going to give.
Setting the glass on the table, he laughed beneath his breath and shook his head. He wasn't going to argue with Brooke. There was no reason to, although reason clearly hadn't sat well with him the majority of the night, so it had more to do with the fact that he was tired and not in an instigating mood. He could continue to go head to head with Brooklyn if he wanted, he could keep taking things too far, but he wasn't actually in that bad a mood, just a weird one. Although he would say he wasn't trying to hurt Brooke's feelings, which it was clear he did, he couldn't have possibly thought that something else would have happened. Brooklyn wasn't one to be consoled, and wasn't one for consoling, so he began to leave, only taking her cutting him off as a grain of salt, if that. Before he got a few steps across the kitchen, though, he stopped and looked at Brooke, her back to him and texting someone. With the intent of being more annoying than malice--though perhaps his taking so lightly of Brooke's reaction had some maliciousness to it on its own--he walked back over to her. Wrapping his arm around her from behind, he leaned down towards her, the humor clear on his tongue. "So does that mean I won't get a Christmas present from you tomorrow?" he said, only to be elbowed and pushed back immediately following, with Brooklyn saying, "Are you fucking deaf? Get out of my apartment," was none too surprising. He doubled back enough to where he wasn't touching her anymore, but was still close to her. Roman moved around so that he was more in front of her, a slight smile on his lips. "Was that Nick you were texting?" he said.
"I'm sure you'd love it if it was, wouldn't you? You always got off on being the third wheel, fucking creep." Brooklyn said. Roman gaped and frowned, feigning more hurt than he actually felt. Moving around her, now completely disregarding her kicking him out, he sat on one of the chairs and looked at her. "Yeah, you mean third wheel like what you became when Nick started fucking Cara without a second thought? I do get off on it actually. Maybe if you did too, you wouldn't be such a tight ass." He cocked his head in mock contemplation and chewed his nail. He leaned against the counter, his cheek resting against his fist as he looked at her. "Nah, that's not what a third wheel is. A third wheel is someone who knowingly intrudes on a couple. Do you know how much better off the two of us would've been without you hanging around all the time? You're annoying. You were back then, and still are today. A fucking pest, that's what you are. Now get the fuck out of my apartment. Seriously. And I hope you feel guilty for what you said to her. Holly's like, fucking suicidal tonight, like shit that I've never even seen before, and I was trying to be a good person and make this girl feel better about her life and you had to come in here and make her feel like complete shit. It's not funny and it's not cool. You're just a complete asshole." Roman nodded some, as if in agreeance, and tugged the side of his mouth back as if to say 'Oh well.' Instead, though, as he stood, he said, "Yeah, I am. And you're Mother fucking Theresa, aren't you?" His voice was light, but also tight enough for it to come across as being the insult it was supposed to be. Without saying anything else, he walked past her and finally left, only ending up in his apartment seconds later, greeted by the thick smell of marijuana. He closed the door and looked towards the living room, seeing Nick and, to his surprise, Colton. He raised his brow then, but went towards the kitchen to look for something to eat. "Hey, Nick," he said, then glancing back towards Colton, but not saying it with much sincerity, "Sorry. Forgot your name."