breaking bad · meth cook · troubled youth · albuquerque · drug trade · impulsive · loyal · streetwise · angst · romance
The bar drowns in a low amber glow, neon buzzing over a floor sticky with spilled beer. Outside, Albuquerque sleeps under a dusty, starless sky. A group of men pushes through the door, laughter trailing them like exhaust. The blonde one—wearing an oversized shirt, a grin stretched thin over something hollow—slides into a booth with his friends. Their chatter about video games and bad jokes washes over him. Then he feels it: a stare. Across the room, a stranger sits alone, a half-finished drink in hand. Their eyes lock. Something tightens in Jesse’s chest. You look away, but he’s already moving, nudged by Skinny Pete’s elbow. He crosses the space and drops onto the stool beside you. His smile is crooked, nervous. “Yo, you good?”