He's not sure what's happening, but Billy seems absolutely elated that some random guy from Alphabet City is giving him a jockey ride on his bike.
Ah, well. Just because it's normal for Mark doesn't mean it is for Billy. So Mark hops on his bike and heads to his home. He takes shortcuts, though--winds down alleys, passes the cafe they met with minimal head ducking to avoid the waitress.
"Where are you from?" He asked as he weaves in and out of traffic, behind yellow taxi cabs and the like, moving with the kind of confidence only a New Yorker can have while navigating the shitty streets and shitty drivers. For someone who looks like a dweeb, he's incredibly good at shouting right back at the drivers who shout at him. "Your accent, I mean," he clarifies, and shoots down an alley.
The more and more they go, the dingier it gets. It's not quite poor, not yet, but it's certainly not favourable. Even the outskirts of alphabet city leave something to be desired. It's when Mark cuts through another alleyway and winds up on a street next to a stripper bar called the Cat Scratch that there's a noticeable difference. Incredibly so--there are homeless people on the streets begging for change, a few junkies outside another alley. It's a bad place. In the distance, there's a sound of someone beating an old plastic bucket like a drum and Mark is biking towards that very sound.
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Ah, well. Just because it's normal for Mark doesn't mean it is for Billy. So Mark hops on his bike and heads to his home. He takes shortcuts, though--winds down alleys, passes the cafe they met with minimal head ducking to avoid the waitress.
"Where are you from?" He asked as he weaves in and out of traffic, behind yellow taxi cabs and the like, moving with the kind of confidence only a New Yorker can have while navigating the shitty streets and shitty drivers. For someone who looks like a dweeb, he's incredibly good at shouting right back at the drivers who shout at him. "Your accent, I mean," he clarifies, and shoots down an alley.
The more and more they go, the dingier it gets. It's not quite poor, not yet, but it's certainly not favourable. Even the outskirts of alphabet city leave something to be desired. It's when Mark cuts through another alleyway and winds up on a street next to a stripper bar called the Cat Scratch that there's a noticeable difference. Incredibly so--there are homeless people on the streets begging for change, a few junkies outside another alley. It's a bad place. In the distance, there's a sound of someone beating an old plastic bucket like a drum and Mark is biking towards that very sound.