His tears surprise her; something about the baggy clothes and tattoos and shaved head said something about swaggering street masculinity, and she imagined it'd take at least some sort of blanket ambivalence towards users to go into business exploiting them. Either this guy is different or his girlfriend's death was so recent the wound hasn't even scabbed over, and Kim's expression softens a little, the ash on the end of her cigarette growing.

"Don't apologize," she says, simply. A question burrows itself in the back of her head, but she tucks it away for another time. "It's good that you can open up about it. Lots of people, they just..."

She gives a little shrug.

"Take a minute. Deep breaths."