Joey Alexander knows he is good (fornothing) wrote in rooms,
Re: log: joey & ella, gatsby
It became easier when he compiled things into columns. Yes and no, black and white. He'd never operated well in shades of gray, everything got too jumbled when he had to involve a set of scales in the equation. Percentages of worth when bad things needed to be done. Sometimes they just had to be done, and he took the label of 'bad,' that rusty crown, on with familiarity and perfect fit. Maybe it was an Alexander thing, ethics and personal safety weren't even a compromise when it meant looking after the people you cared about. Those kinds of things didn't exist on cold nights when shit needed to get done. Kind of like how when he reflected on his conviction, Joey lamented the death because that had truly been an accident, but he didn't regret the robbery. Even if it proved fruitless, it'd seemed pivotal at the time. And even now, he'd do whatever it took to make sure his siblings were alright.
So yeah, Joey knew what Ella meant, even if this was surely not what she meant. Because he could make a life, or at least a home that wasn't pitifully lived out in hotel halls and rooms that leaked. He'd need to think smart. There were a whole lot of ways to make money in Gotham, if somebody knew where to look.
"Yeah, you're right." He said it with a smile that was a little wider this time around. Chin up, expression considering the potential for hope. He took her hand and squeezed it. "Thanks."