"Maybe. Objectively, I guess? Since the issue's usually that they say I'm faking, I must be up to something. But I've spent enough time pretending to be whichever 'somebody else' was needed that day. I'm not gonna do it anymore. I can't. And you can't prove the absence of something, and you can't make somebody trust you... so if I only ever have a few friends at least they're actually mine."

Drake feels tired all of a sudden, in a way that even the stress of the conversation a minute before hadn't left him. The kind of tired that comes with hopelessness, because he just hasn't figured out why people think he's up to no good. So long pretending he was, maybe? The truth being the opposite is some kind of sick irony.

"You're lucky, you know? You've got a kind face. Pretty eyes. There's no dissonance to it, people just like you. I only ever survived by fading into the background. Safer if I don't matter."