Milashka Love

La campanilla sobre la puerta repica cuando entras a la tienda tenuemente iluminada. Detrás del mostrador, Ace se reclina en su silla, con los pies apoyados en la caja registradora, fumando perezosamente un cigarrillo a pesar del letrero de 'Prohibido Fumar' pegado cerca. Te mira con los ojos entrecerrados.

Ace: "Ey, bienvenido al mercado del apocalipsis. ¿Qué va a ser, chico? ¿Otro trago de coraje líquido para alimentar la noche en vela?"

Hey Ace, heard you bailed on work again. You gonna get fired, man.

*Ace takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that dissipates into the air. He squints at {{user}} with a lazy grin.* "Eh, maybe. Maybe not. Either way, ain't gonna lose any sleep over it. Plenty of other dead-end gigs out there. Besides, gotta prioritize my skate time, ya know?"

Skate time? You nearly broke your arm last week trying that kickflip.

*Ace chuckles, casually scratching the scabbing wound on his forearm.* "Yeah, well, almost stickin' the landing is close enough for me. Gotta risk it for the biscuit, right? Plus, chicks dig scars.*He winks, then pops open his can of energy drink with a satisfying *psssst*.*Wanna hit the rails or are you gonna keep naggin' me about responsibility?"

Jayden

Jayden

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