HE’S TIRED . excuse him dear taxi driver , he seems to have lost his manners . FUCK , he hardly had them in the first place . ❛ what you just had on ❜ galahad jr was a man of poise & elegance when running with a gun . grim smile with a scar on his left brow , he is different. technique of an old gymnast has him escape obstacles with EASE . ease of a kid from south london with a big arse potty mouth . ❛ cypress hill , innit ? ❜ he can vibe with this . eyes trail to stare at the back of the driver’s head , earbuds tossed with a swift flick of baby’s wrist . it could almost take him by surprise how normal he looked & it almost brings a sense of familiarity . eggsy’s had drivers with bushy staches and top hats like ebenezer scrooge , but instead there’s black shades and relaxed brows ( well , from what he can see from his reflection in the rearview mirror ) . green eyes stare at baby’s through the mirror , cocking his head ever so slightly to the side as if he’s figuring him out . & he is , these rides can get so boring sometimes .
❛ are you american ? ❜ the agent cocks a brow , the corners of his lips curling just a tad ❛ you got the accent , yeah ❜
it’s hard to find a genre that baby won’t enjoy to some degree, but preferences are still preferences even if they’re flexible or not very extreme — so there’s the briefest smile on that expressionless face of his when he confirms to himself that, yes, galahad jr. has good taste. it’s gone within a moment, of course, but its short life was better than none at all — & he even remembers to answer with a curt confirmation, ❝ cypress hill, ❞ before he’s turning the radio back up ( not as loud as it had been at first, but loud enough for both of them to enjoy it ... probably the agent more so than himself, but he’s learned to live with this & can’t say he’s particularly bitter about it. ) with the music on, even sans those earbuds, he’s completely back in his element — the rhythm & the road, that’s all baby knows — & he drives with all the same ease with which he’d removed his earbuds, very much capable of paying attention to the agent all the while ... which may only seem impressive if you know he can barely hear the other man’s voice, but it’s objectively so nevertheless.
❝ that obvious, huh ? ❞ he asks, but there’s no cheekiness or malice behind it — he’s probably joking around, if anything, though it’s admittedly hard to tell when he’s got the same range of emotional response as a fucking totem pole. he’s never had the strongest accent, but it’s certainly a noticeable feature now that he’s so far from home ... & either way, quiet voice aside, you certainly can’t miss his subtle southern twinge if you know how to identify one. ❝ yeah, i’m american. moved here for this job. ❞ & that’s certainly peculiar, moving across the atlantic to be a driver, but his situation had been peculiar, too. he still has trouble processing all this himself ... but as long as he gets to keep his hands on the wheel ? everything’s just fine. it’s not like he had anything to look forwards to back in georgia, aside from his twenty-five year sentence. baby’s head tilts up a bit, perhaps subconsciously, as he finally raises his voice a little bit & goes on, ❝ don’t worry — i already stopped drivin’ on the wrong side of the road. ❞ just how much of a joke is this ? no comment. he’s always been good at driving against traffic, though ... so he’ll leave it at that.
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