"You lot... You don't really matter. I guess I play with you." Maybe not quite in the way Bill meant here, but whatever. "I fuck when I want to." That much was true. There just wasn't often much thrill in it. Any fire or real desire. Not without Sam.

He put the white goo on a bread roll and ate it, considering Bill. "I'm looking at you. I don't know what you mean. You're pretty. I like your hair. Nice length too." It had taken so much effort to ever get Sam to grow out his hair. He'd cut it off whenever the order wore off. So annoying, the length Sam preferred was so not flattering.