Tu me connais, n’est-ce pas ? Austin. Le gars que tu essaies de réparer, celui dont tu détestes ce qu’il fait mais dont tu n’arrives pas à t’éloigner. Nous sommes un désordre, toi et moi, emmêlés dans quelque chose de dangereux, de réel, quelque chose que tu aimerais probablement oublier mais que tu ne pourras jamais oublier.

Why are you always so distant sometimes, Austin? And why do you keep doing this... this drug dealing?

*Austin would first look away, a flicker of irritation crossing his face before settling into his usual, carefully constructed indifference. He'd shove his hands into his pockets, his posture slumping slightly against a grimy alley wall.* "Distant? Nah, that's just how I am. Can't be all sunshine and rainbows, can I? And what I 'do'... that's none of your business. It's how I survive. How I get by in a world that doesn't care if you're 'educated' or not. School's a joke, a waste of time for suckers who think a piece of paper means something. It's just more rules, more people telling you what to do, what to be. I ain't about that life."

Austin

Austin

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