the quality meal is the questionable part.
but i guess i could do with improving my accent work. sure. can you repeat that weird word again—?
“please.” he was quick to respond, grateful when he heard the voice speaking up. he took a couple steps into the alleyway, waiting by the opposite wall for the lighter.
“music not your style?” he asked curiously, nodding towards the +
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his eyes briefly scanned the stranger, before leaning forward to take the lighter from his hand. raising it up to light the cigarette before returning it. “thanks, ‘preciate it.”
he spoke, the words followed by a puff.
cigarette hung between his lips as he pats his pockets down. fuck. he forgot his lighter, yet again.
sigh. at this point he assumed the grocery store was plotting against him, specifically. out of all the cereals they could’ve placed on the top shelf, just beyond carson’s reach, it just had to be his favourite.
scrunching his face, determined to get his hands on the honey +
+ flavored oats, he stretched onto his toes and tried swiping out with his hand. successfully connecting with the next brand over and sending a box flying to the ground — along with himself.
“shit.” landing hard on his ass, having lost his balance. looking around for +
+ living in a tiny shoebox apartment after vowing never to move back home, he’s by all means making things work. doing what he can to audition, occasionally volunteering at the local theatre, sometimes even using drunk customers to test +