[Orange is sitting at a corner table far in the back of their chosen bar. It's always the same place, the same spot, the same drink. Sometimes it's the same hour too. He lights a cigarette, his second already. Meeting with White is strange for most obvious reasons, but it's the only sense of consistency anymore. If there's one thing he can count on, it's on that man showing up as promised, when promised. His gaze hovers over the doorway, waiting for a familiar silhouette to fill the space.]
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