" i've seen roadhouse thir'y times. 'stead of dialogue, i memorized the fights. "

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" i said i go' a penchant for smokes an' kickin' douches in th'mouth. sadly f'you, my last cigarettes gone out. "

not ideal to be robbin' your own da now is it? but sure what choice has the aul fart left him??? see when he was little nox never had much of anything right --- yeah no i know like, a child yeah what the fuck would a child have?? few teddies, few hot wheels like? not this kid. little noxy's favourite toy was a zip tie he'd fashioned into an armless, legless little man he named kevin. kevin's long gone, and actually fuck kevin we're not talking about kevin!!! not talking about childhoods!!!!

" sorry ---- oi --- sorry darlin' bu' can i ask you su'im -- " this is fucking dog shite this. he's fucked. like, royally screwed now and has a terrible feeling this impulsive little plan of his isn't going to work out very well. see, he owes a very scary man a very scary amount of money and --- well, he's not fucking got it, has he? and let's make it worse, all his fucking dickhead friends are " too fucking busy " to help their dear sweet nox pull off just one teeny tiny horse robbery.

yeah, i know. horse.

doesn't exactly give you dollar signs in your eyeballs but listen, kid definitely felt a lightbulb go off when it came to him. see, he has a plan, the kind of plan so brilliant that when your pals hear it they come up with some bullshit excuse about being too fucking busy because they're not smart enough to see the vision. but nox is. he's fucking ---- fucking genius, him. steal a million dollar race horse. sell million dollar race horse. use money to run far far away from scary man. step one:

" ---- d'y'know where i'd find a horse round here? big one, preferably. a fast one, like. "

busy cafe. noisy, too. one of those where there's not really any tables but they've stuck a bar up against the window with a few plug sockets. the crowd is very oooh i have a call with japan at two and hr at three, need to sneak in an acai bowl when i've got the time!!! busy people with fancy laptops and too many phones.

the guy beside you seems out of place though, eh? full nike tech tracksuit. fidgety. honks of weed. he's nudged your arm a few times accidentally but seems too focused on the iphone of the person sitting on his other side. any minute now you'd swear he was gonna ---- oh he's fucking done it!!!!!!! business man looks over when the barista calls his order and the kid swipes the phone, pockets it. locks eyes with you.

" we're all on th'yokes an' s'startin'a be a good night out, they forgo' bout th'time i said suim like brits out. "

        you know they reckon your brain isn’t fully developed until you’re twenty five? sure there’s a few people who’s gets there first, even a few who need extra time, it all depends on your environment and trauma, especially childhood shit. he also read somewhere that people who start abusing drugs and alcohol at a young age, their brains take much longer, if they even mature at all! after reading that, nox remembered why books had never really been his forte. 

           kinda funny though ---  wait until you hear this, you’ll get a kick out of it ----  he picked up that book in a moment of productivity.  i’m gonna help myself. gonna turn my shit around, stop treating myself badly, be a grown up about life for once.   clearly it didn’t go very well. the same night he dumped that book down the garbage chute was the same night a familiar face popped up on grindr.  ronan.  someone he probably wouldn’t have messaged had the self help gone well, but lucky for us nox has never been very skilled at making good choices. 

              so he shot his shot and now look at him, the very same as that first night ronan came pounding on his door looking for a stolen bag. laid back on the couch, a few doobs in and some light years away in his mind. he’s nervous. not sure if linking up is such a good idea after they  ---  well, nox isn’t really sure what happened. one minute they were all over each other, next it was like they had both forgotten the other existed. blame it on the skag. blame it on a wild year. 

             the door knocks and he’s on his feet so quick he gets light headed, having to take a few deep breaths before crossing over the dingy apartment. it’s awkward. he’s regretting this.