Mateo
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between
and most things in between
Mateo wants to be eating waffles in his pajamas and enjoying a jazz playlist on Spotify before his shift, but he's here instead so... sure. Making a sound that's something like a grumble but also a little bit like a sob, Mateo has neither phone nor earbuds as he slouches after Everest and into the very bright, very air-conditioned gym. Wrinkling his nose, he spends a moment of consideration while scooping his curls up and into the effortless sort of man-bun that belongs to artistes and baristas.
"Let's do a light jog," he agrees, approaching the treadmill like it might attempt to kill him. "I can lay around on the mats again after. I might need it..." Plonking his water bottle into the holder on his chosen machine, Mateo steps up onto it and tilts his head at the array of settings, taking particular note of the Big Red Button to make it stop.
"Ooooh, they're playing the telenovela I like," he chimes, already watching the TV and its subtitles rather than the treadmill, which he's pressed a bunch of things on to get it moving. And look Ever, he's walking! He's doing it!
"Let's do a light jog," he agrees, approaching the treadmill like it might attempt to kill him. "I can lay around on the mats again after. I might need it..." Plonking his water bottle into the holder on his chosen machine, Mateo steps up onto it and tilts his head at the array of settings, taking particular note of the Big Red Button to make it stop.
"Ooooh, they're playing the telenovela I like," he chimes, already watching the TV and its subtitles rather than the treadmill, which he's pressed a bunch of things on to get it moving. And look Ever, he's walking! He's doing it!
I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
