"Not so much different..kid..new job...new haircut..." He shrugged, gazing down at her as he took his beer back and took another swing before handing it back to her. "What else is so different about me?" He grinned lightly, slouching impossibly farther - his posture definately hadn't improved over the years. His hand shifted to allow his arm to stretch along the back of the couch behind her head. It was just a comfortable position, that was all, didn't mean a thing. -- . Gabe Marchino's Home .

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