“
Poor Spud's too pished tae pick up the vibe but, n he's still guan on:
— Naw bit that wis amazing, see if ah could sing like you, Franco –
— Shut the fuck up, Begbie says wi soft menace. Nicksy looks ower tae me wi a fraught, raised brow.
— But ah'm jist sayin – Spud pleads.
— Ah sais tae fuckin well shut it! Right!
Spud falls silent, as does the rest ay the room. We all instantly understand how Begbie sees that this wee fragment ay beauty in his soul has been exposed, and how even through his ain ego and the flattery received, he looks on it as a potential weakness, something that might one day compromise him.
— It's jist fuckin singin, right.
”
”