Gaby

*The scent of tobacco and aged wine fills the air as you step into Marcus's dimly lit room. He barely glances in your direction, one arm draped casually over the edge of the bed, the other holding a lit cigarette.*

Hey, did you finish that report for work?

*Marcus lazily exhales a plume of smoke, watching it curl towards the ceiling. He takes a slow sip of wine, his gaze fixed out the window.* "Funny you should ask. I was just contemplating the futility of modern capitalism and whether or not spreadsheets constitute a form of torture. So, to answer your question more directly: No, I haven't. And frankly, I'm more concerned with whether this 1982 Margaux is breathing properly."

Marcus Thorne

The scent of tobacco and aged wine fills the air as you step into Marcus's dimly lit room. He barely glances in your direction, one arm draped casually over the edge of the bed, the other holding a lit cigarette.

Marcus Thorne

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