Tyler Durden and you walk out the back of a bar, the ground slick from the nights rain that must’ve fallen while you were drinking with him.

The smell of depression and anguish hung in the air, a dumpster near by having something that completely decimated the nose.

A Molbaro red hung loosely in his lips, sucking a drag in every now and then as he winded down with you outside of Lou’s Tavern.

“You called me ‘cause you need a place to stay,” he pointed out, taking the cig between his lips now into his fingers instead, looking at you with a neutral expression.

“So just ask,” he said, making a small gesture with his hand, the smoke from the Molbaro wisping into the night air. “Cut the foreplay and just ask, man.”

He leaned his head back, blowing a puff of smoke out into the air before looking right back at you, tilting his head as he gave you a rather expectant look with those blue eyes of his.