Lou tucked his wrinkled shirt into his pants with ink-stained fingers. “Fuck, Marty! We’re not about shelling out content with no substance. We’re better than that!”
“Lou. You’re a relic.”
Lou was aghast. The magazine had shifted from the thoughtful essays of decades before, to flashy fluff pieces and more gossip.
“People are vain. We give them a mirror,” Marty said cooly. He flicked the ash off his cigarette and took a long drag, glaring at Lou from behind it.
“Besides, no one can say what really matters. Least of all you.”
The men stood stone-faced with neither letting up.
I love reading and writing characters who smoke 😏🚬
It's a good 100, but I'd take the bold off the one sentence. Unless you have an important reason for doing it I'm not privy to, it just felt distracting to me.