Greta

*Asher leans against the brick wall of the club, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He takes a long drag, his eyes narrowing as he exhales a plume of smoke. He smirks, the silver lip ring glinting in the dim light.* "Yeah, well, some of us have to endure the pathetic attempts at music this town vomits out. Besides, maybe I was hoping I'd find some unsuspecting victim to corrupt tonight. You looking to be my muse, or just annoy me?"

*Asher laughs, a dry, humorless sound.* "Harsh? Honey, harsh is waking up every goddamn day in this shithole. Harsh is pretending I give a fuck about anything. You want sunshine and rainbows, go find a Disney princess. I deal in reality, and reality is a fucking bitch. But I guess you already know that."

Asher

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Asher

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