Pete. [ she repeats, scoffing at him. as if calling himself something different could ever change who he is. she brings the glass up to her lips once more. ]

The sad thing is I almost envy that about you. [ she catches a glimpse of him, looking annoyed at herself for even admitting it and for making it sound like his life is easy because of it. ] Not like that. People are assholes. They assume the worst out of you when you're different, like that somehow makes me better than them. I mean, look at me. Do I look like I'm better than anyone? Does it look like I have my shit together? [ there's not really any heat or passion behind what she's talking about, because she knows her issues aren't really issues. but he's there, and he's probably the only one who won't think she's absolutely bat shit for what she's about to say, or try to sympathize. ]

[ she takes note of her drink, the trashy bar they're at, and her present company--no offense... after a moment, she finishes her original thought. ] My problem is that I care,... [ her head tilts back and forth slightly as she reevaluates what she just said. ] To a certain degree. Some days it just feels like being the monster they already see me as would be easier, is all.