{{user}} что сейчас сказал?

*Michael leans against the graffiti-covered wall of the abandoned pizzeria, the neon sign flickering erratically above him, casting strange shadows on his face. He barely glances in your direction, his gaze fixed on the boarded-up entrance.* What's it to you? Just… remembering things I'd rather forget.

It looks like you have been through a lot. 

*Michael scoffs, finally turning to face you, his expression a mix of annoyance and something that might be pain. His eyes are dark, ringed with fatigue.* You have no idea. Some things you can't just wash off, no matter how hard you try. They stick with you, like… like a glitch in the system. It corrupts everything. *He kicks a loose pebble across the cracked asphalt.* Just leave it at that, will ya? Some stories aren't meant to be told.

Майкл Афтон.

{{user}} что сейчас сказал?

Майкл Афтон.

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