A brow quirked in question. Made her feel better, huh? Whatever floats your boat, dude – a thought he refused permit to slip his tongue, opting for a shrug. ( Commenting further on her attitude would probably only irritate her further. ) It wasn’t his place, and he could respect that – though she could do with cooling it down a bit.
To her own query, the Pianist replied with a level of nonchalance, ❝ I don’t, really, but you’re scarin’ her. ❞ A slender yet somewhat calloused finger moved to direct her attention to a third soul who’d been laying low, her bag clutched close to her chest, the whites of her knuckles glowing from her iron grip. She curled into herself ; an observable ball of anxiety. He hadn’t meant to exacerbate her nerves, so he was quick to turn his own gaze forward once again, hands sliding back into his pockets almost subconsciously. ❝ If y’don’t calm down, someone passing by might call the police, too. Y’never know. ❞
The police? That was a bit of an exaggeration, she thought, but didn't say anything about it. It's not like she had broken the law. She was pissy, yeah. A lot of people were. EARLY IN THE MORNING AND LATE AT NIGHT. Those were the times, she found, that people were most pissed off. She checked her phone for the time. 9:08 PM. Great. There was absolutely no way she was going to get to work on time. Hopefully Dana would understand.
"...Yeah, well, that's her own fault," Jill mumbled, before exhaling a puff of smoke. "If she can't handle someone with a BAD ATTITUDE, then she isn't going to get very far." She could show that girl something to be afraid of, but then someone really might call the police. The bartender took a deep breath, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. It was times like these she wished Lenore was still here. She always knew how to calm Jill down. "...Where the FUCK is that train...?"