Re: The Enfant Terrible/The Jaded
Emil had been a guy for whom other people peeled out of the way. They crossed to the other side of the street, but it was almost the same thing. This guy, Kelly Green, appeared to be the big cheese at this shindig even if it wasn't his compartment it appeared to be his party. Emil hoped absently it was his compartment; if it had been his and Kelly had thrown a party in it, he would have wanted to break the guy's face. This party wasn't breaking up anytime soon. Gravity propelled him further forward through bodies. Emil hadn't ever owned anything that required dry-cleaning, but the reaction was significant. Kelly didn't phase and Emil figured the guy was on drugs. There was no way that mellow happened without chemical stimulation.
Gravity worked too on the edge of the bed. Emil's wrist was still in the grip of the guy who sprawled akimbo across the corner of bedspread still left open. Emil came to a lanky stop, his knees within the spread of the guy's knees. Standing. Somebody had to, and Kelly looked like he didn't care who hit the mattress with him. Emil did. Maybe he didn't look like that guy, but he did.
He was passed a drink that smoked unnervingly. "Dry ice? On a train?" Emil's voice was dry. A little flat. He looked at Kelly, mastermind of dry-ice-on-a-train and lifted the glass a little. He didn't drink. "Emil."