Dylan had just come out of the shower. He did things like that now, he showered, he folded the few clothes he had and put them in a neat pile next to his bed, he actually made himself breakfast once or twice. The next steps would be cleaning the apartment, followed by actually washing his clothes in something other than the bathroom sink. He was pulling on a t-shirt when he heard the familiar knock at the door. Bare feet padding on the oddly green carpet of the apartment, Dylan went to the door and opened it.
"Hey, man." He said, pushing a clump of wet hair from his eyes. "Come on in." He stepped backwards into the apartment and headed to his bed where his backpack sat on the mattress. He unzipped a pocket in the backpack and pulled out a roll of bills tied with a rubber band. He strode confidently back to Henri and handed him the cash. "Here," He said, and something struck him as odd about the drug dealers appearance. "You're looking .. really good, man." He said with a light frown.