Thank you, Johnny, he totally is. Sunshine lifts her glass in acknowledgment, then arches an eyebrow at Eliot. Oh. They've met, apparently, and she gives a resigned little nod. "And he keeps it..." she makes an illustrative gesture over her own hair, "friggin plastered back even though it is approximately five billion percent cuter when it's all loose and curly. Such a shame." She regards Eliot's altogether too gleeful expression for a moment, then says, "I take it you've met."