'Joey' paused briefly, looking down at his jumpsuit for a moment. “Oh, right. Joey,” he said, blinking. “Sorry, no. Name's Will. Was...loaned this, I guess.” He unzipped the uniform to reveal a black t-shirt, leaving the bottom half still up. “I was just there for a report. I'm a writer for the newspaper. You know, makes me more knowledgeable about what I'm writing. This Joey guy was killed a week ago. Mugging, I heard. Pretty sure I wrote about it too.” He scratched his chin in thought, but then shrugged. He didn't give much thought to the people who died, but why would you in this city? It happened too often to count.

“Anyway, yeah. Gum. Sure.” He reached into the pocket of his uniform, tossing over a pack. “You can keep it. I'll pick up more on the way home today.” He looked at the other man skeptically for a moment before shaking his head. “So you aren't freaked out at all about the stranger who just kind of walked into your apartment? That kind of shit is gonna get you stabbed in these parts.”