r.i.p. 2 my youth

“no. she’s still kicking. but i think she thought she could do it all, ‘cause she was high as it was, so. maybe she wanted to sell it, but. doubtful. she comes from old money. anyway - i’m tweaking because i think we’re about to get merked by some massive buff dudes. like, i’m dragging her out of the stall by her foot.”

“i was thinking a dog one. kids would be too expensive, you know? the industry is so inflated with....” mav makes a dismissive noise, waving it away. “probably.” he shrugs. “just be sensitive. but be aware of what you’re getting in to. just quit getting your hopes up.”

“well obviously.” mav blinked at him. “you heard my question. answered my question. and that was the boring part.” he snaps in front of his hands. “alright. from the top.”

“then get more sleep. it shouldn’t be my problem. anyway, yes. giant hotel, we’re all drunk and nineteen in some auxiliary room, and of every single bathroom in that place, she has to wander into this one. and my other friend’s mom is a cop - totally busted us. she got cuffed and i just kinda walked away, though.”

mav smiles smugly. “okay, damn. hold your horses - you’re less patient than me. anyway, where was i? right. bathroom, knees, and the dozen dime bags of coke she’d stolen. like - exactly the ones those guys from the beginning were looking for? she’d stuffed them all in her bra.”

“kiera? i really hope that means she’s a child. i’m putting my money on giraffe. children don’t know that, like, ripe bananas have the dots.”

“yeah i know i do, thats why i have to check. do you, like, have a.d.d.? anyway, i don’t care - should i start over?”

“and i’m not disagreeing with you! it’s gross, and i’m embarrassed to be associated with it, but, what can i do? let her wander the streets at night alone, crying on his doorstep? i might not be much, but i can keep her from wandering into trouble. and give me a break, i went to france for, like, two weeks, okay? sorry i didn’t memorise the cookie names.”

he cocks his head to the side as if considering it. “she used to run track, though, and she’s, like, five-one. if she didn’t have her phone i’d lose her and some creep would catch her. i’d have to keep her on a leash or something.” he hums, then, almost in agreement. “sounds like it. being unattached is such a failsafe.”