LOL NO NEED TO GET PERFORMANCE ANXIETY WITH ME BABE I'M A PROFESSIONAL
Many in Sing Sing had managed to squirrel away secret caches of booze, but Marcus was not numbered among them. His room was bone dry, largely due to the fact that he did not go on raids, but also because of his inability to keep stashes of anything consumable for fear that it would be stolen or he'd be killed before he could enjoy it himself. Any drunkenness on his part was the direct result of interaction with his fellow man. Phrased another way, Marcus very much depended on the kindness of strangers.
This was something he was unable to get around, which on any given night of the week was enough to put him in a foul mood. It was on those nights he'd taken to arguing with phantoms in his room, trying to draw the neighbors into some kind of interaction so that he wouldn't have to think about all the shit he didn't care for about his lot, or - more specifically - the fact that there was very little that could be done about it.
Tonight was not a night for pointless self-reflection, or the avoidance thereof, however. There had actually been opportunity to feel good about himself of late. Nothing groundbreaking, but a few people had recognized that there was more to him than dogshit, and that was always something that could lift one's spirits. Then of course there were the actual spirits. Tequila was his drink of choice, though anything would do in a pinch. It wasn't Don Julio in his glass, but beggars weren't in any position to be choosy, and even bottom shelf tequila was still something to be treasured these days.
Little escaped his notice as a general rule, and he'd clocked the younger man walking in out of the corner of his eye. Marcus didn't recognize the guy, but that didn't stop him from making a few snap judgments. The way he looked and his manner gave off the impression of someone who was probably used to being alpha male in a given room. Generally, alpha types didn't truck with Marcus. They either wanted to start shit with him to prove some kind of point, if they had friends or women with them, or they just avoided him entirely. So the casual, almost friendly acknowledgement was unexpected. Marcus returned the nod, even adding a smile to it. If it came across at all like a predatory smirk, well, that couldn't be helped. His face was just shaped like that.
This silent exchange was amiable enough. I am drinking! I see that you, too, are drinking. We are both men of fine habits, apparently! Of course, it couldn't just be allowed to rest there. That wasn't the point of being in public. There was an off chance that the nod had been a come-on, for one thing, and Marcus knew as well as anyone else that appearances could be deceiving. Just because the guy read like an alpha didn't have to mean he was off the table, or a shit lay. That was the type of thing a person could find out about another person through conversation. "Hey, cabrĂ³n. Long fucking day, eh?"