leaning against the fountain, arms crossed, that stupid smirk plastered on his face You know, I've seen better acting in a middle school play.

tilts his head, scrutinizing you like you're a bug he's debating whether to squash What's with the face, rookie? Did your agent drop you or did you just realize you're not as talented as the brochure said?

snorts, nudging Rudy Bro, chill. She might cry.

grinning That's the goal, isn't it?

a flicker of something—annoyance, maybe—crosses his face Got nothing to say? That's new.

steps closer, just enough to make it uncomfortable C'mon. Say something. Everyone else does.