“It’s not what you think”, he said, taking one long drag from his cigarette before flicking it away.
“What is it, then?”, I asked absently.
“Damage control”, he said, as I watched the glowing embers of the discarded cigarette fade away slowly. “That’s all any of this is.”
I thought of the last set of lost boys, and the cruel trap fate had laid out for them. I thought of the past, and the darkest things that were now forever a part of me. I thought of all that had happened in just one single year.
“I understand”, I said, lighting another cigarette.
I knew a little about damage control myself.