So. [ A pause to sniff again as Jesse wipes his nose. ] You're sayin' I just gotta believe I can take off and get the fuck outta here and become a space pirate. And then it'll happen.
[ A skeptical look thrown at Ronan that's verging on comical. Okay, but he's just being an obnoxious smartass because coke has a way of bringing that side out in Jesse.
Fine, he'll bite, though. He looks down, sealing up the coke bag for now, even though he'll probably have it open again in ten minutes. He sets it down next to Ronan, then he's reaching into his pocket for his smokes. He turns and leans back against the rock behind them. ]
Look, I'm only kick ass at one thing, okay? And it ain't books, and it ain't Latin. It ain't anything to do with book smarts or any of that stuff. [ Ticking all three of those things off on one hand to make his point. ] But I know I'm good at what I'm good at because someone else believed in me. I didn't believe in me. I mean... [ Pausing a second to think back on his Cap'n Cook days. ] Okay, yeah, I mean, at first I did, but then Mr. White came along and he...
[ He trails off. God, fuck. Rambling. Fucking rambling. He can talk so fucking much on coke without thinking, especially when he's wound up and brimming with nervous energy. He pushes a hand through his hair. Then he's throwing that hand out at Ronan as he changes tack: ]
Look, I don't know why it matters, yo. Why does it matter? Who cares if I'm a dumbass?
no subject
[ A skeptical look thrown at Ronan that's verging on comical. Okay, but he's just being an obnoxious smartass because coke has a way of bringing that side out in Jesse.
Fine, he'll bite, though. He looks down, sealing up the coke bag for now, even though he'll probably have it open again in ten minutes. He sets it down next to Ronan, then he's reaching into his pocket for his smokes. He turns and leans back against the rock behind them. ]
Look, I'm only kick ass at one thing, okay? And it ain't books, and it ain't Latin. It ain't anything to do with book smarts or any of that stuff. [ Ticking all three of those things off on one hand to make his point. ] But I know I'm good at what I'm good at because someone else believed in me. I didn't believe in me. I mean... [ Pausing a second to think back on his Cap'n Cook days. ] Okay, yeah, I mean, at first I did, but then Mr. White came along and he...
[ He trails off. God, fuck. Rambling. Fucking rambling. He can talk so fucking much on coke without thinking, especially when he's wound up and brimming with nervous energy. He pushes a hand through his hair. Then he's throwing that hand out at Ronan as he changes tack: ]
Look, I don't know why it matters, yo. Why does it matter? Who cares if I'm a dumbass?