You've been drinking like the world was gonna end
Adam didn't know who the 'scouts' were, but he knew better than to trust the honour of the kinda guy who bummed smokes off people like him. Still he just shrugged, knowing if he had to lose out, losing one joint was hardly a great cost. Nate seemed to know how to smoke it anyways, Adam nodding with approval as he didn't cough or hesitate. He took the joint back and breathed in the bitter smoke himself, snorting at Nate's first question.
"Yeah, I know. I've practically fuckin' lived in that bar since I got here. I dunno how the fuck this place works without any cash. Apparently s'all bargains or just the good of their hearts but..." He pulled a face. "Dunno if I believe in that."
Did he had a sad story? Oh yes. He most certainly did. Was he going to tell a stranger? Hell no. Even his own mother didn't know the origins of the scars on his neck. Only one person did and that was because she'd saved his life. "Oh, nah. Mine's boring. No orphanages or dead puppies. You should ask around, you'll hear some real corkers. So lemme ask you this instead: do you know what a fucking gun is? I'm trying to find someone who isn't completely fucking mindblown about this." Adam pointed down to his hip, where a pistol was strapped to his belt.
Adam
It didn't.
