[ He isn't the smartest boy there is, but MP hasn't gotten as far as he has without a few rules here and there. (Don't shit where you eat. Don't double-cross women. Reward success, punish failure. Say sorry if you lose your temper.) They're nothing elaborate, mostly common sense, but they're the sort of thing he has to remind himself of daily, otherwise get buried in an avalanche of his own shit. Another rule: know every face at your gigs and this girl — short, sharp, bright red hair — she's new and that sets his lizard brain to stalking.
His smile's easy enough when he makes it way over, past a bank of hardcore dreamers, going the distance in a week-long spar of the Most Dangerous Game. One of the opponents is the French ambassador to Egypt, who is responsible for the current digs overlooking most of Paris and the Eiffel Tower. ]
Fancy a go? [ Not a come-on, but a pretty standard hello for this kind of a set-up. MP assumes she must be somebody's +1, but nobody in the general vicinity seems to have dibs. ]
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His smile's easy enough when he makes it way over, past a bank of hardcore dreamers, going the distance in a week-long spar of the Most Dangerous Game. One of the opponents is the French ambassador to Egypt, who is responsible for the current digs overlooking most of Paris and the Eiffel Tower. ]
Fancy a go? [ Not a come-on, but a pretty standard hello for this kind of a set-up. MP assumes she must be somebody's +1, but nobody in the general vicinity seems to have dibs. ]