Re: The Neighbourhood: Billy/Alex
It’s a good thing that they don’t veer into the territory of swapping psycho-stories, because he doesn’t feel like contributing to Alex’s trauma-by-proxy (or reliving his own, at that) by spilling about what it was like to kneel at the feet of somebody that he’d thought loved him while also knowing the same person was going to kill him one day. Not, like, the best material for a night that’s supposed to be casual Netflix escapism and pizza and maybe some drunken hair braiding.
So he’s about to swig back the shot but he stops to listen to Alex’s run-down of the tea, and he makes no attempt to hide the climb his eyebrows make towards his hairline. “Fuck,” he says baldly, and picks up Yoda in one hand and hooks the bottle and a matching Vader with the other, slopping a little whiskey on the floor on his way back to the couch but whatever, it’s his fucking house. “Sounds a lot like what happened to Atticus. And that shit took more than blueberry beer to deal with, so -” he plunks the shot glass down on the coffee table next to the guy’s plate of pizza and pours him an equal measure of Jameson. Then he sits again, a little more careful not to spill this time for the sake of the couch, and looks him head-on. “I’m really sorry that’s happening to her, man. And you.”