Mateo
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between
and most things in between
Mateo doesn't know what day it is and, to be frank, he doesn't care. Someone possibly mentioned the Festival of Lights, and he'll go when he's finished drinking away his hangover. (He's actually missed it by at least a day, but hey what's twenty-four hours between friends?) All he does know is that since the whole bullshit with Mort and Enzo, seeing Remi again, dealing with Hotaru and fLoRa, he's just... ugh.
Just ugh.
You wouldn't know it to look at him, of course; it's mid-morning and he's riding on the back of a wagon through the Silk Houses, lifting his skirts (yep) to any of the lovely young things he knows and flashing them a whoop and a wink when he isn't drinking from the bottle of wine in his hands. It's fine, what's not to like?
Just ugh.
You wouldn't know it to look at him, of course; it's mid-morning and he's riding on the back of a wagon through the Silk Houses, lifting his skirts (yep) to any of the lovely young things he knows and flashing them a whoop and a wink when he isn't drinking from the bottle of wine in his hands. It's fine, what's not to like?
I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
