Re: The Enfant Terrible/The Jaded
You could get doped up on anything. It wasn't the same as the kind of induced chemical reaction that was in those purple smoking glasses and Emil knew plenty about dope. He wasn't a fastidious, my-body-is-a-temple type, bodies existed to do what you wanted in them and it cost a lot more to eat organic anything than it did to fish stuff out of the on-sale aisle at the store. But he didn't eat glitter. Call it a specific habit. And he didn't drink anything that smoked like a demi-god in a second-class compartment. So he skipped. Kelly seemed like he'd had a few before Emil showed up. A few of other stuff, besides.
Philosophy. Emil's mouth toyed with the idea of smiling, and didn't. He looked down the length of his nose, angular at Kelly and Emil wasn't all that bothered with who was who, still less feigned celebrity. If you were any good at what you did, you didn't need to party. You didn't need to look desperate. There was nothing worse than wanting so badly it looked like need, and laying that out for anyone to see. Didn't believe in wanting anything bigger than what was realistic. At least not where anyone could see.
The guy was cutting lines, which Emil didn't bat an eyelid at. The smile ghosted back. "Thanks." Dry.