[ he doesn't drink right away. he was never a heavy drinker - didn't need to be, not when the rage was always right there - but that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate it. still, unlike david, it's not something that'll help him loosen up and talk more easily. he needs a clear mind for that. one unclouded by being drunk - or being furious.

evan watches david instead, seeing no rage, no demands, no uncertainty. not yet, anyway. one wrong word and it all goes to hell, he knows. but he doesn't want to talk about any of this. address even a single idea fermenting in the rot of his skull. ]

You keep gettin' in my way. Fucking around. Never learning. Keep gettin' better at it.

[ it's hard to put it into words, especially for him. but, for the moment, he'll try. ]

You, coupla the others. You do stupid shit and it sticks. Start wanting to see what else you do next.

[ he pushes the mask up partway - just enough to drink. the whiskey burns like fire, but that's fine. that's what it should do. ]