tonight is my last night in the house i’ve lived in for the past 9 years and i didn’t think i’d get emo because honestly i have a lot of Bad memories associated with this house but here i am getting emo
bullet wound on his stomach, numerous nicks and cuts from the job as well as childhood, an old skinned elbow from wrestling with his brother during a basketball game that got a little heated. his left knee sticks sometimes because of a lifetime of pickup games and intramural sports. nothing shows up on an MRI yet, but he assumes it’s only a matter of time.
they’ve never said what happened to his dad, have they? maybe he was a jamaican immigrant who was deported when marcus was little, ended up staying where he was and trying to maintain a relationship with his boys through letters and phone calls.
eighth grade, the first two girls he asked to the school dance rejected him for being too short. this was a running theme in his life that he does his best to mitigate by having other things to bring to the table.
his first day as a detective, he overheard one of his new colleagues refer to him as a diversity quota. a couple of the bigger assholes started calling him DQ until he made them shut up by being good at his job.
licks his lips, always chooses the treadmill furthest from the locker room, texts his mom after every shift so she knows he got home safe