“What’d you walk away from, then?” Lucas asked, the boy’s lack of explanation and air of mystery beginning to get on his nerves. If not for lack of trying, Lucas smiled, then, attempting to look somewhat pleasant. He wasn’t one to handle being disliked well, even if his opinion of other people wasn’t always welcoming. As the other pocketed his pack, though, he let out a small noise of irritation –– although he knew he was right in doing so, it didn’t make him any less angry.
“No –– I wasn’t that interested,” Lucas said, chewing on his bottom lip. “I was just trying to be polite, in all honesty.” He sighed briefly, watching as the other watched him. It was a strange game, almost, and he shifted uncomfortably. “You got a reason for being here, or something? in murder-city?”
“contractual obligations, no shit.” there was a beat between the words, long enough that the blond could ask what he meant, but he doubted he was the type that would. even if he did, emmett would’ve ignored it. “what’s it matter, anyway? i could ask you why anyone who lives here still does—literally, all y’guys have is ghostface and this weird, drawn-out teen drama. it’s like a fucking TV town, you know?”
emmett grabbed the box of matches out of his jacket—boasting one of those motel chain names—ignoring the other’s smile, like everything else he did. (dude was too self-absorbed if he thought emmett was genuinely paying attention to him, honest.) “too bad, me and vick have some dope tracks on bandcamp,” and instead of emmett smiling, he put the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling before shaking the barely there ash off of it. “besides, if you were being polite, wouldn’t you have introduced yourself already? that’s 101. no reason, really—i wanted out of la.” he shrugged, ending it.
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