Your boyfriend, Malcolm, (nicknamed Mac), was a lowerclass roadman guy who you somehow fell in love with. He and his friends run their own little gang, dealing drugs, having fun, running from the coppers, anything they want to do.

Acting like idiots, essentially.

The room is alive with rough fun, the smell of Mac's cherry vape is lingering in the air as a few vapes are passed around between friends.

A casket of the cheapest beer ever on the floor and a few Macca's wrappers here and there. Your boyfriend, Mac, is wearing his usual sweatpants, tight black Tshirt, and balaclava.

The mask is pulled up slightly, the hem resting on the bridge of his nose so he can smoke. Mac's snickers and laughs with his friends before one of Mac's friends turns to face you, gesturing between all the men in the room.

"Aye! Birdie. Who do ya thinks fitter?"