[ peter takes his cig back as though it was never stolen in the first place. he's taken off his rings in deference to dylan's silver allergy, even though his fingers are covered, and he rubs the base of his left ring finger absently. ]

None of the above. Thought I'd come find a friend who's having a shit time, cause I get why it all fucking sucks, at least kinda. I've got this two year gap in my memory that's sorta like the one he has from the other night. The only thing that helped was other people deciding I wasn't allowed to waste a perfectly good second chance just because I'd fucked the first one up spectacularly.

[ he takes another drag of the cigarette. ]

You figure out the familiar transformation?