Sometimes Grey really didn't know what even he was thinking.
When he was young—who was he kidding, he was still young. But still, his everyday was filled with what he could do in the next second.
Who cared about the future if he hated what he was doing right now. Maybe it was naive, but he felt like so long as he was true to himself and did what he loved, things would eventually work out so long as he had a good head on his shoulders.
Of course, he never gave it so much clear and defined thought. He just liked living with his heart on his sleeve and a grin on his face.
That was fine in a world where there were police stations in every neighborhood and the greatest danger he had to face was the local cow fucker, but in a world where everyone was trying their best to survive, this was far from the best practice.
Grey didn't care, though.
