Against the Wall (29 page)
Authors: Jill Sorenson
He didn't want to look like a drug addict anymore. He also didn't want to look like Ian Foster: dirt-poor white trash, desperate to escape his upbringing. So he set down the razor and rinsed his face, leaving his mustache intact. It was only a few days' growth. He didn't resemble a seventies' porn star or a Wild West gunslinger, but he wasn't quite himself, either.
He was Ian Phillips, hipster photographer.
National Geographic
photographer. World-class. Front page, motherfucker.
He laughed at his reflection, pleased with the easy transformation. In less than ten minutes, he'd changed his appearance considerably. He looked sort of academic, artistic. The mustache suited his face better than a scruffy goatee.
And Mexican women like mustaches. Don't they?
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