Re: Shiloh/Mao
Mao’s eyes rolled briefly behind his shades. He knew that Shiloh knew what he was talking about, and he couldn’t let himself get irritated about it because he also knew that the guy wanted to get under his skin a little. It's what he would have done if their roles were reversed, after all.
“But I’m King Smug.” There, he claimed the title before Shiloh could. He’d let the other boy be the Duke of Smug, if he so wished. Mao liked to be top dog (or top cat, rather.) And like a cat, he wasn’t too keen on sharing.
Ah, so Shiloh was the type to be shameless about his recreational drug use. Mao’s mother had been the same, as were the people in the circles she ran with. He had seen it all growing up, and it looked like such wild fun, but time always seemed to catch up and ruin the party. Young, vibrant, beautiful people used up and washed out one after another. It even happened to his mother. He didn’t care to dabble too much into anything harder than weed and booze because of what he’d seen, though he never judged. Besides, nothing he could snort, smoke, shoot up or swallow could ever make him feel as amazing as a bite of human flesh. So, despite being careful, he was already a kind of junkie, wasn’t he? His drug was cannibalism.
Mao followed Shiloh’s glance towards the bathroom, a brow arching. Was he already in need of another line? “Yeah, sure. I’m always looking for trouble, so I guess we’ll be running into each other all the time, huh?”