Joey Alexander knows he is good (fornothing) wrote in rooms,
Re: Marvel: Rescuing the tiniest Alexander
[The girl was forgotten while Joey smudged the palm of his hand against once eye like sight could be righted with enough of a push. Good girls didn't come down here, not that he liked good girls, but the good ones didn't go getting pregnant either... not like he was trying to be his pops anytime soon. So while girls were good, the ones that avoided the junkied underside of bridges were even better.]
Nobody calls me fuckin' Cocoa, nobody-- [Fire lurched at the cotton hem of his back, too hot, hot enough to catch if he wasn't gone soon, and the man's hand caught him, tugged him, brought him back onto steady feet. Like he was nothing but a sweater and shitty beer? Since when had an Alexander been anything more? Joey staggered, and he gestured briefly back to the area of 22 oz. starwberitas sitting by his very acclaimed lawn chair.]
But my sister, man--
[And then he looked, not at Sam, but at Shane. Drunk, he swam on the heels of his boots, and maybe he would have stumbled completely without the other guy's grip.... but the man kept him righted. Joey's knees didn't buckle, he wasn't that much of a lightweight, even if he did sway here and there.] Uncle Kyle?
[Familiar, but not Pops, and Joey couldn't place it. 2014 or not in the mention, he couldn't place it. Maybe he didn't want to. He glanced back at the chick in the chair, half-lidded eyes barely seeing anything anymore. Then a tilt of his scruffed jaw, arm around the man who was practically supporting him every step away from the fire.]
Ca-Can't go, man. I gotta... gotta make them breakfast, get 'em up for school... [He reached around blindly, like expecting to find a bottle in mid-air.]