The smoke rose through the air, burning a sharp, intense almost stench through the room.

"We're nothing a like."

"That doesn't mean this has to stop." He seemed to say.

"It's not like I'm ashamed."

"Of course not."

"People know. I just don't need to wear an fucking teeshirt to prove it."

"Of course you don't."

"I just like the music."

"Just the music?"

"And the boys too."

"Even you have a weakness."

"But I'm not one of them."

"What's wrong with them?"

"They're psycho."

"And you're not?"

"No. I don't scream at someone's name. I don't run around like a chicken with my head cut off. I don't make a complete idiot out of myself for no reason."

"Would you make a fool out of yourself if there was a point?"

"Ah! You're so difficult."