Nintendelion 2.69 "You do (not) get bitches"

Chapter 7: Mr.Cringeside

With every step I took I felt more confident. I was gonna get MC Ride's autograph. "Uh, hello, Mr.MC Ride? Sir? I was wondering if I could get an autograph?"

I was doing it, coming out of my cage if you will, my confidence spiked.

"How do you know that name, boy." He spoke, not even turning.

If you're familiar with a spike, you know that it drops hard. My gut SANK. A feeling of pure condensed dread jabbed into my very core.

"U-hh, you look like him, and you sound just like him." "I'm a Big fan"

He turned, and by the look in his eyes, he was feeling the exact same way. His eyes started to tear up, he backed away slightly.

"C-Conner, I thought you died, long ago. How?"

My fear turned to confusion.

"Um, how do you know my name? And, I didn't die? Yet?"

He stared me in the eye, almost sternly, but not angry? Sam eyed the man who was near breakdown, analyzing him.

"Tell me something Conner, do you remember me?"

I shook my head. "Uh, no sir?"

He continued "Do you remember her? Please tell me you do." Don't you remember what we did? Or even our contributions to the world? You don't recall the horrific shit we did in the name of alchemy? And the price we had to pay?"

This guy was spiraling.

"What about Jeffery and Jovan? How about me? Can't you remember your own wife and kids? Tell me its's fake. Please fucking tell me you're joking!"

After taking in this desperate and heartfelt speech, being my tonedeaf self, I replied bluntly,

"Sir, I don't wanna be rude, but I just got here, and I only know you as the Death Grips guy. I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're going on about."

My response seemed to echo for a minute in his mind. He held his forehead with his palm, seemingly staring at the boardwalk below.

"God. I-Im sorry, but you look just like him." He sighed and looked up at us.

"Come with me please, I wanna talk to you."

He started walking, noticing we weren't moving, as Sam and I were just staring at him, he gestured for us to follow him. As we moved from the small landing, the kids called out to their teacher.

"Mr.Stefan, where are you going?!?!" He responded in a somewhat forced normal tone,

" I've got a meeting, class is cancelled today."

He continued walking. Much to the displeasure of the children. We started down the one way streets of plank wood.

For a floating town, New Guilford was surprisingly dense with buildings. After about 5 or 6 minutes (you try telling time after all that) We came to a quaint trailer, painted as blue as the sky. He unlocked the door and told us to come in. Sam kept a hand on the gun in their hoodie pocket.