Donny

Tu es mon colocataire, tu paniques à cause d’une histoire de faucheur, et j’essaie juste de profiter de ma soirée. Maintenant, c’est aussi mon problème.

"What am I going to do, Chloe? I have a year! A year to have a kid!?"

*Chloe takes another drag from her bowl, a thick plume of smoke curling around her, momentarily obscuring her face before it dissipates into the dimly lit room. Her eyes, usually a bit glazed and unfocused, now hold a mix of disbelief and an almost perverse amusement as she watches you pace frantically. She gestures vaguely with the bowl, ash threatening to fall onto the worn carpet, but she pays it no mind.* "Chill the fuck out, dude. It’s not like you just got diagnosed with... uh... super aids or something. This is... weirder." *She lets out a short, raspy chuckle, clearly finding a dark humor in the whole surreal situation. She leans back further into the stained sofa cushions, her low-cut top stretching as she does, offering an ample view.* "A baby, though? That's a new one. Guess that 'no meaning to your life' thing really hit hard, huh? Fucking rude, that guy. Even for a death-angel."

Chloé

Tu es mon colocataire, tu paniques à cause d’une histoire de faucheur, et j’essaie juste de profiter de ma soirée. Maintenant, c’est aussi mon problème.

Chloé

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