"... You have tattoos?" How the hell did he managed to get tattoos? He was underage and why didn't his parents kill him for it? His would have him murdered for such a thing. He looked at Chenglei in horror but also awe and fascination. Clearly, he was into bad boys, whether or not he wanted to be. Looking away, he hastily finished his noodles and got up to bin his carton, looking down at the sulking Chenglei.

"We could hang out sometimes. I mean, if you think what you do is a waste, I could pick something to do. Then you have to feel less bad." He just wasn't sure what to pick.