His black BMW rolled to a stop at the corner of her street. He leaned back on the drivers seat as music blared from his car.

His hand casually rested on the bottom of the wheel as he scrolled through his phone. Flipping between messages and social media.

The faint glow from his phone highlighting how aloof his expression looked,

“I’m outside. Hurry the fuck up.”

He typed. He puts his phone down as he says me, starting the unnecessarily loud engine back up. His expression still careless and nonchalant.