“It’s so pretty up here you might forget how terrible this city is.” I don’t particularly expect an answer. Just an observation. “It’s not so bad, I think.” I turn my head to look at him. “Maybe not up here from this ivory tower, but people like you and people like me see this city differently for a reason.” I rub my fingers together to emphasize that I’m talking about money, and how he’s jaded from it. “I see a lot more than you think I do,” he says, and then we both look out over the city for a long time.
