“It’s something he doesn’t want to discuss in detail,” Soleil said under her breath after our vexing encounter with the bullet-ridden chest of a young model. I felt uneasy about the situation and pried for more information but she was guarded in her explanation of his wounds. I knew she knew more than she was telling me; she had known them the longest and they had become close friends. “There was a deal that went bad,” was all I could garner from her. Once again, I would brush off the disquieting thoughts in my mind and move on to more important things–like the magnetism I felt between myself and Vasko, his Yugoslavian roommate. I was anxious to meet up with him and friends for dinner and dancing in a few days and it was clear that he was excited too. There was a light in his eyes as he spoke to me that collaborated his affectionate gestures. We headed back to our apartment and got ready for the week of castings ahead.
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