"I knew I should have acted the crack whore or the beggar part." Averie clicked his tongue. "If I had some make-up, it would've been a breeze."
He was leaning against the bars of the holding cell that the police had thrown him in. He wasn't alone; the crew of three was with him.
They occupied the closest corner of the cell, keeping away from the other detainees who smelled like trouble.
"What are you in for, baldy?" Averie asked a tattooed man.
The heavy man turned his thick neck to study the pretty boy. "It's a shaved head. Call me bald again, and I'll bash your skull in."
The three breathed heavily, trying not to make eye contact.
'What is wrong with you?' their glares seemed to relay.
'We aren't even filming; why are you picking fights with him?'
'He is twice your size, for fuck's sake.'
Averie's expression twisted into one of disgust. "Why shave it if you take offense when being called bald? Are you as dumb as you look?"
The big man stood up.
