Derrick breathed in the sweet smoke of the cigarette before puffing it out slowly. His short yet spiky black hair was silhouetted by the evening sun, and he itched the back of his neck. He had lots of tattoos all over his body, sporting anarchist values and socialist ideation. He wore a repurposed army coat with punk patches all over. He had dark jeans on, with clunky combat boots.

He passed you the Jack Daniels bottle, expecting you to take a swig.