“ — anyways, the guy comes back like ( cue the bad impression of a middle aged man about twenty-five times her weight )  ‘ that’s my drink, bitch ! ‘ & i’m like, really ? if you cared so much about it then why the fuck’d you leave it behind ? so, y’know. one thing leads to another. i broke his nose, no biggie. ” and that perhaps explains her black eye and several other kinds of injuries that don’t even seem to faze her at all. “ anyway, how was your day ? ”

“ ah. neither was i. ” her laugh is a cheap DECOY, barely apt to hide the clear discomfort that paints her features. her skin ITCHES —— one might think this kind of lowlife would fit right in, in this kind of place, but it REEKS of all the things she used to hate & are part of her life now. there’s a thick aftertaste of survival instinct that’s telling her to RUN, get the fuck out of here; but she holds on to the taste of meeting an old friend instead, ‘cause even if her smile can’t convey it, fuck it, she’s glad to see liv again. “ saw you on the stage. you were good. ” she was more than good, but will’s lacked the skill to express anything true, lately. it’s like everything’s a thick foggy grey & sometimes, just sometimes, a BRIGHTER shade of white will stand out, in the corner of her eye, just out of reach. a soft, lazy curl of her lips barely attempts to brighten her face, like timid sunrays behind a thick cover of clouds. “ i mean, i knew that already, but, still... you were good. ”