After a few moments of regret, I finally decided to rise up to my feet and to abandon the sunset. I opened the door, and walked in, as the door shut the last cries of the orange sun.
As I walked through the hall, I saw someone exit the door, which was a standard mugger who happened to see me.
"Oh, hey, you Connor?" the mugger asked. He looked familiar. The clueless eyes and delayed voice, the blankness of his face that was almost comical to describe.
"Yeah, are you Brick?" I asked. He looked at me weird. "Brick isn't my actual name you know right? It's actually Bartholomew Ⅲ."
"Figures," I said. "What is it?"
"You're Connor right?"
"Yes," I confirmed again.
"You know what that reminds me of? Corn. Conny-Corn."
I was ready to punch the little teeth he had left out. Kirk Jexifan only had permission to say that because there was nothing I could do about that. Brick, however, is a large exception.
