Re: The Disaffected/The Entertainer
"Adults eh? How old are you anyway? Don't look like a teenager to me." The younger man was obviously younger, but Miles didn't see someone too young to drink standing in front of him. He knew he didn't see his own age in the glass, but that was something the brain did to kept people from losing their damn minds when the gray started to grow in. He wasn't old enough for gray yet, but he knew it would come. That kind of thing always came, and it was better to just accept it coming. "Guessing you're just young enough to remember bad parents or teachers, but got to accept you're one of those adults. We're all not so bad. You don't need to be so bad either. Now that doesn't mean I trust the management of this train," said the man with splatter on his own shoes.
They were walking companionably then. At least Miles thought it was companionable. No noses were being broken and no fists thrown, which made for companionable. "Theories don't suck. Theories are discussion points. Their places to start talking," declared the ambling man with hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He didn't care about narrow corridors or needing to call back to Nicky, which suited a whole lot more than Nicholas in his limited experience. "I'm Miles, Nicky, but Yeezy Guitar Guy has a ring. I might talk to the label about making a change." He glanced back once and then stepped into the bar car, which was on the crowded sided of crowded. "Not much else to do on a train that isn't moving," he said, and then he walked up to the bar and grabbed a spot at the end.