Acting Like A Professional

Mr. Pink

Way down the street there's a light in his place
He opens the door, he's got that look on his face
And he asks you where you've been
You tell him who you've seen
And you talk about anything

Mr. Pink just looked at her, unable to tell if she was serious. He held a gun to her head not fifteen minutes ago, and she wanted to know his name? He definitely understands making crude jokes in serious situations, but nothing about her demeanor made him think she was joking. He quickly decided it was in his best interest to try to humor this kid, since children can be unpredictable, but this still was just weird. He shook his head.

"I ain't telling you my name, obviously that's not entirely smart in my position... but for now, I go by Mr. Pink. Listen, I got a lot of thinking to do, small fry. Good god, a ton of shit got fucked up in the past hour, and I need to figure out what I'm doing next, so just shut up and.... just shut up."
He paused, deciding for a moment if he should've said even that much. At this point a cloud had covered up the sun, and the light streaming in through the window was a dull blue glow. The momentary silence stretched itself out in Mela's perception; she sensed a strange stillness in the air. He looked back at her, biting his lip, then sighed.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this- Mila, is it? -but since you seem like you can handle understanding the severity here... I gotta let you know there's fuck-ton of diamonds in this case I got. I was supposed to go back to a rendezvous, but- But I don't know anymore, man. Now that someone ratted us out to the cops, I can't trust any-fucking-body with 'em, I'm was just gonna stash them here and drive off 'til I know I'm safe. I'll, uh, rent a place to stay, hide out until...Fuck, I just don't know..." He looked at the floor, then out the window. His gaze wandered as he stood up and leaned over the crooked coffee table. Then Mela asked him a question that caught him off guard even more than her first one.

"Well maybe, uh,  can I come with you?" She said, hope welling in her eyes.

"What?" He returned, incredulous. "What the fuck kind of question is that?" She had to be joking, right? Pink looked over his shoulder at her as she hurriedly tried anything she could to convince him.

"Okay, I get it, it doesn't sound right. I'm not gonna hide anything from you, sir, I just gotta get out of here. I mean, whatever money you can get from those jewels would be enough for the both of us, and I would know how to handle myself. You don't have to worry about providing for me or anything; I got all that figured out. I know it sounds stupid just to ask, because 'The life of crime isn't glamorous' and all that shit, but it's gotta be better than what I've got going for me now. Especially with someone who really seems to know what they're doing. I'd hate to be a kiss up, but whatever's going on with you sounds like crazy and you're really working your way through; being the "voice of reason" and all that shit. I heard that robbery happened less than a half hour ago and you already got a plan mostly formed. Hell, I'd be happy to talk things out with you, to strategize a little. I-I know better than anybody that trying to figure important shit out on your own is like a suicide mission, no matter how incompetent the people available to help seem to be. So I don't know if you're gonna take off or not, but if you do, I was just thinking it wouldn't have to be alone." Mela was pulling all the stops. Compliments, demonstrating her own competence, honesty, self-awareness. Anything to get him to trust her.

Then Pink did something he never imagined himself doing. He seriously considered her offer.

He's got this dream about buying some land
He's gonna give up the booze and the one-night stands
And then he'll settle down
In some quiet little town
And forget about everything