#super bowl xxxvii

[happinessismusic]

As for his relationship with Stefani, Sting first met her when she was just a fan at 13 years old. Then, in 2003, Sting and her band No Doubt performed together at the Super Bowl XXXVII halftime show.

"She's been a friend over the years and I so admire her," the "Roxanne" singer explained

"I'm so impressed by her ability to communicate with the singers so succinctly and so intelligently, so compassionately. And it's not an easy job. And she does it with such aplomb."

[mermaidinthecity]

Super Bowl XXXVII: PONY, Girls Gone Wild and sportsbook.com Super Bowl Celebration - January 24, 2003

[authortobenamedlater]

Since tomorrow is S4 even though I won’t get to watch it until Saturday, here are my For All Mankind predictions:

This is Ed’s last season at least as a major character. He’s 70-something now. I have a feeling he’ll die since that’s how this show likes to send out its main characters, but even if he doesn’t, he’s getting too old to be the show’s driving force.

Sergei will bust Margo out of the USSR.

We will learn that Margo traded herself for Sergei and family’s safe passage to the US. She goes to work for Roscosmos and gives them info on NASA, the KGB looks the other way while Sergei and his family get airlifted out of Moscow.

Maybe Margo is a double agent? Mr is convinced of this. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Kelly and baby are living on Mars with Grandpa Ed. Ed calls his grandson (I think it was a son anyway) his favorite Martian.

Ed and Wayne have weekly emotional support phone calls. Maybe not. But they should.

Danny is still living in exile in the crashed North Korean landing module, probably starting to act like Tom Hanks’s character in Castaway. Maybe he named his helmet Wilson.

Things I’m wondering:

If 9/11 ever happened

If the American female gymnasts still won gold in 1996 (if they didn’t I will set something on fire)

If George W. Bush is President and if not, is it Al Gore or someone else

If the USSR will ever fall and how will it happen

If the Patriots won Super Bowls XXXVI and XXXVII (some things are important)

If the Red Sox win the 2004 World Series (some things are VERY important)

Depending on how many years the season covers, if the Bruins win the Stanley Cup in 2011 (again with important things)

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Get AppleTV and find out. You can watch all three seasons if you start right now.

[checkthreetimes]

𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 — 𝗔 𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗯𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗺𝗮𝘀𝗵 𝗠𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝗦𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗠𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗨𝘀 𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

The world of rock music has lost one of its brightest stars. Steve Harwell, the lead singer and co-founder of Smash Mouth, passed away on Monday, September 4, 2023, at his home in Boise, Idaho. He was 56 years old. His manager confirmed that he died of liver failure, a condition that he had been battling for a long time. Harwell was not only a talented singer, but also a pop culture icon. He was famous for his distinctive voice and charismatic personality, as well as his hit songs such as "All Star" and "I'm a Believer". He had an amazing career in the music industry, spanning over three decades and selling over 10 million albums worldwide with his band. He also had a colorful life, marked by his passion for music.

He was born on January 9, 1967, in Santa Clara, California. He grew up in San Jose, where he developed an interest in rap music and joined a group called F.O.S. (Freedom of Speech). He later switched to rock music and formed Smash Mouth with his friend Kevin Coleman, along with Greg Camp and Paul De Lisle. Harwell was influenced by various artists, such as Elvis Presley, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, and The Clash.

Harwell and his bandmates started their career in 1994, playing at local venues and festivals. They caught the attention of a radio station that played their demo songs, which led to a record deal with Interscope Records. Their debut album, Fush Yu Mang , was released in 1997 and featured their first hit single, "Walkin' on the Sun", which reached number one on the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks chart and number two on the Hot 100 chart.

Their second album, Astro Lounge , was released in 1999 and became their most successful album to date. It contained their signature song, "All Star", which topped the charts in several countries and became a pop culture phenomenon. The song was featured in the soundtrack of the animated film Shrek , as well as other movies and TV shows. It also earned them a Grammy nomination for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group. Another popular song from the album was "I'm a Believer", a cover of The Monkees' classic song, which also appeared in Shrek .

Smash Mouth continued to release more albums in the 2000s and 2010s, such as Get the Picture? , The Gift of Rock , Summer Girl , Magic , and Rise and Shine . They experimented with different genres and styles, such as ska punk, reggae, country, and disco. They also collaborated with other artists, such as Baha Men, Eddie Money, J.D. McPherson, and Caravan Palace. Harwell also pursued a solo career, releasing two songs for the animated film Pororo: The Racing Adventure in 2013.

Harwell received many accolades and achievements for his music career. He won several awards from MTV, Billboard , Teen Choice , ASCAP , BMI , and others. He also performed at various events and venues around the world, such as the Super Bowl XXXVII halftime show, the World Series , the Olympic Games , Disneyland , and Carnegie Hall . He also appeared on several TV shows and movies, such as The Surreal Life , Rat Race , American Idol , Dancing with the Stars , Family Guy , Kim Possible , Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated , and SpongeBob SquarePants .

He died on September 4, 2023, after being in hospice care for final stage chronic liver failure. He is survived by his wife Michelle Laroque Harwell.

Harwell will be remembered as one of the most influential singers of his generation.

[thatgurlbey]

Bey x Carlos Santana performing at a pre-game show for Super Bowl XXXVII in ‘03

[morinleves]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NFL TAMPA BAY BUCCANEERS SUPER BOWL XXXVII DVD.

[lboogie1906]

Roman Oben (October 9, 1972) is a former football player. He played college football at the University of Louisville before being drafted by the New York Giants in 1996. He spent 12 years as an offensive tackle in the NFL playing for the Cleveland Browns, Tampa Bay Buccaneers, and the San Diego Chargers. He was a starting offensive lineman on the Buccaneer’s Super Bowl XXXVII Championship team.

At the age of four, he moved with his mother from Cameroon to the US and settled in DC. He attended Gonzaga College High School and spent one year at Fork Union Military Academy where he set a FUMA discus record at 185 ft 10 in that stood for 21 years.

After retiring from football in 2008, he worked in broadcast media as a football analyst and held executive positions in sales and business development. He is now a Vice President of the Football Operations department at the National Football League.

A two-sport college athlete, he played college football at the University of Louisville and was a four-year letterman in football and a three-year letterman in track and field. In football, he was an All-National Independent first-team selection as a junior. In track and field, as a freshman in 1991, he placed at the Metro Conference Championship in the shot put.

While at the University of Louisville, he became a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity and was Vice President of the Alpha Pi chapter.

His son RJ Oben is a defensive end for the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #alphaphialpha

[all2collectmore]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Y2K New Reebok NFL Super Bowl XXXVII Tampa Bay Buccaneers ‘03 Champions.

[collectingall]

∀ Tampa Bay Buccaneers Super Bowl XXXVII Authentic Speed Helmet BAS 34900 http://blog.collectingall.com/T4n48d 📌 shrsl.com/4fuj5 📌

[2-timesaweek]

Super Bowl XXXVII - Raiders vs Buccaneers (Full Game) (HD)

[ "SUPERBOWL XXXVII:

"OAKLAND RAIDERS VS. TAMPA BAY BUCCANEERS"! ]

[honeysfashion]

Anthony Nelson Tampa Bay Buccaneers Nike Red Game Jersey

The Tampa Bay Buccaneers have one of the most storied and successful franchises in NFL history. The team has won five Super Bowls and produced some of the greatest players to ever play the game. Among those greats is Anthony Nelson, who was a member of the Buccaneers from 1996-2000.Nelson was a Pro Bowl wide receiver during his time with the Buccaneers and helped the team win Super Bowl XXXVII. He had some of the best statistical seasons in franchise history, including a 1,000 yard receiving season in 1999. Nelson was also a key member of the team's special teams unit and was named to the All-Pro team in 2000.After his playing career ended, Nelson remained involved with the Buccaneers organization and worked as a coach and scout. He was inducted into the Bucs' Ring of Honor in 2006.Nelson's jersey is one of the most popular among Buccaneers fans. It's a great way to show support for one of the greatest players in franchise history.

[mermaidinthecity]

Super Bowl XXXVII: PONY, Girls Gone Wild and sportsbook.com Super Bowl Celebration at 526 Market Place in San Diego, California - January 24, 2003

[imgs-of-old]

DCP_0641 from January 2003

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXVII: Cold Comfort For Change

Crowds of people seated, sucking in each other’s oxygen with their open, smiling faces. Plates full of lobster and mashed potatoes and what was that? Spinach? It was something green. Could’ve been seaweed or...whatever other plant was green. I didn’t think about the color green often. Maybe like once or twice, and only when I saw something green. That was all.

Through the air was a nauseating aroma of boiled vegetables and a vague hint of starch. Carbohydrates? I wasn’t sure. Whatever potatoes smelled like when they were heated. If not for the aroma, loathe as I was to breathe it in, I wouldn’t have been able to tell there was any sense of heat at all. At least the food was warm. Maybe the people, too. It did look like a sunny day, and by sunny, I meant that the sun was out.

Decorations of little stone angel statues were lined on shelves and windowsills. Glasses, a counter with a dedicated bartender (some guy in a fancy three-piece suit with a monopoly man mustache). Stairs which led...where? Beats me. Upstairs, probably. If not for the food stench which drowned out all other smells, I might not have picked up on the sleek scent of refined mahogany which made up the hardwood floors, counters, stairs...ah, hell, everything.

What was I doing? Waiting for my seat. I had a reservation and I figured maybe if I arrived a little early, I could get to my seat faster. I was wrong. Dead wrong.

I tapped my foot. It didn’t make anything go faster and the crowds, the chatter, everything worked in tandem to see how far I could stand being in such a place. Rich folks and people on dates who probably pretended to be rich in order to impress the other person. All I wanted was a good meal, something I didn’t have to make, and look at the mess I got myself into: at any point, any one of them could look over to me and they would raise an eyebrow, tilt their head, point, stare in confusion.

It would have made sense, too. I mean, who on a near-summer day would wear a thick, red jacket and have their arms folded as they shivered in place and wished they could find a place of warmth at last, some kind of warmth that would never come? Plenty of people, maybe, I mean, maybe the air conditioner was really working on overdrive. It’s not like I checked the temperature outside before I stepped foot in such a posh hellhole.

All these people smiling and laughing and making face noises. It’s just like how people on the Titanic must’ve been like. Am I the iceberg?

“Dee Flecked?” Called the server. Or receptionist. I didn’t know these restaurant job titles. It wasn’t my job to know. The...whatever was another “some fancy guy”, just like the bartenders. His features were...a face and clothes. That was all I was going to warrant.

Yes. ‘Dee Flecked’. I have to be careful. I’m veering awful close to my original name. At least I don’ t know anyone with a ‘D’ in their name. Nope. None at all.

“Me…” I raised my hand with a feeble motion.

“Right this way, madame,” he motioned.

Finally someone with manners.

He ushered me to my seat, which was a solitary table in the middle of the dining hall. Which meant I was ambushed by all these people who probably didn’t feel so much as a hint of a draft. I guess I should’ve been grateful as at least in the summer time, it was manageable.

“Uh...can I...have a different seat?” I looked up and asked the guy in expensive clothing who was probably paid too little to be way too polite (which meant he probably couldn’t even have afforded his clothing. Was that a plothole, but in real life?).

“I’m sorry, madame, but there are no other seats available,” he broke the news in such a way that it was like he was telling me my great grandmother who I never knew and so had no attachment to had just passed away.

“Oh...that’s...yeah, that tends to happen in a place like this...ha…” I tried not to express my disappointment too hard and I hoped my weak and shaky voice didn’t give me away. To aid in my endeavor, I waved about a hundred dollar bill.

“Here’s a per-emptive tip,” I looked down at the table and muttered.

“Thank you,” he took it, “I’ll get you the finest water we have.”

I let out a foggy sigh of relief. I had done it.

Now, as for what I was doing there, or what I was doing anywhere at all, I couldn’t really say. I’ll be honest – I wasn’t expecting to still be around after all that time. Many months went by (but less than a year) since I parted ways from that glacial diner. For the first several whiles of my time alone, I didn’t really had any particular goal or objective. I slept in alleyways and rooftops alike, anywhere where I thought I wouldn’t be bothered and wouldn’t have to pay rent. Food was difficult to come by, but shoplifting from grocery stores was easy. Also there were food banks, but I didn’t want to rob a food bank.

To think I was living at all, though. It wasn’t really in the plans, but as I said, I had no plans. Life just had a way of going on. Didn’t know how to feel about that one, but it was a little out of my control, so I let it go (conceal, don’t feel) for the most part. Make no mistake, it was unbearable, and at times I did hit something of a rock bottom. I remember being in Italy, concealed by any shadows I could occupy, and would beg others for just a sip of wine. Eventually, though, I had enough, so being individualistic in nature, I did something about my situation and worked hard to earn a fair bit of money.

...In other words, I robbed a rich person’s house in the dead of night while they were on vacation and took off with over a million dollars.

“Ray would’ve been so proud,” I remarked.

Not that I care. It’s not like I miss him. I don’t miss any of those people.

I made my peace with that part of my life and I was sure the feeling was mutual for everyone else as well.

“I’m so glad Remora’s finally gone! Everything’s much easier now!” Was what I was sure they must’ve said. ‘They’ being any one of them, including Tigershark.

Heh. ‘Remora’. What a silly name that was. To think it was all because I saw some dopey fish one day.

Yeah, I thought of the kid from time to time. Thought stuff like, “crap I just left and didn’t even say anything to her.” But then I was reminded of the fact that she had Ray and Sunny anyway, and they were much more equipped to take care of a kid. Plus, as far as I could tell, they were caring people. Not some frost-bitten oaf like me. After being reminded of that, I would always be relieved.

So yeah. No complaints from me. I had my own life now, and I didn’t know what kind of life that was, but my organs still functioned (possibly? Haven’t checked in a while).

Two or more minutes passed and the server handed me a glass of water in a wine glass.

Gee, it really is fancy.

“Thank you,” I handed the server another hundred.

“Have you had time to look at the menu?” He asked.

Fuck. There was a menu? All this time...see, this is what thinking does to you.

“Ice...cream?” I blurted out.

“You want ice cream?”

Why did I say ice cream? Well now it’s out there, so I have no choice but to double down, otherwise I come off as awkward.

“Yes. Get me some of your finest ice cream. Please,” I begged, then gestured and handed another bit of currency to the server.

“Very well. What flavor, madame?”

“Fish…” No. That would be awful. Shut your mouth now.

“Fish?”

“No. I said ‘fresh’. As in, fresh strawberries, please.”

“Very well. I will have a waiter bring you our finest of sherbets.”

“Who?”

“Who will the waiter be?”

“No. Who is ‘Sure Bert’?”

Rather than answer my question, he laughed, then walked away.

How rude. And to think I gave him a tip. Oh well, I have to remember how hard of a life food service workers have. He probably doesn’t get much tips from other people. He probably sleeps on broken glass. Rich people tend to be stingy, after all, which is why I should have their money instead.

When the waiter arrived, he set down a large bowl filled with several mounds of light-reddish colored ice cream and piles of strawberries on top.

“Here you are, madame,” the waiter took a bow as he gestured to the food before me.

“Th...thank you,” I shivered. It was as if I was also one of those ice balls.

“Are you cold, miss?” He asked, his soft politeness almost deceiving me into believing he had any concern.

“Mm...a little…”

“Would you like to eat outside?” He offered.

What the fuck? That server guy said there was no other seating available. That bastard.

“Uh...no...that wouldn’t fix anything. Thank you, though,” I appreciated the offer, really, even if I knew how futile it would have been. For the effort, I handed him a couple of hundred dollar bills. Also, for the record, his attire was so fancy that it reminded me of that one ogre in Shrek. Couldn’t quite remember that ogre’s name, but he wore a fancy outfit, that much I knew. Also, the waiter had hair, I guess. I wasn’t really paying attention.

After he took the money, his tune changed.

“Oh...oh my. Uh...can I massage your back? Bring you cushions for your seat? More food, perhaps?” He seemed desperate and predatory.

“What’s your problem? I just want to eat my ice cream, creep,” I side-eyed the guy who I thought was decent up until that moment.

“Sorry. By all means,” he skittered away, obvious damage control.

I shook my head. Here I thought I would enjoy myself at such a stuffy establishment, but no, it was not meant to be. How tragic.

I left that place, and I wasn’t even sure if I paid for my meal. All in all, I was rather disappointed, especially since I didn’t even want ice cream. I would’ve been just fine with something like shrimp fettuccine alfredo, or a massive super rare steak along with a valley of grapes. But noooo...lousy service gave me ice cream instead.

That was fine. It was good ice cream, for what it was worth, and even though it wasn’t filling, it did bring me a false sense of warmth which I couldn’t have gotten from whatever other food I would’ve wanted instead.

Out on the streets, I took my stride back toward the apartment I’ve occupied for about four or five months now. My days never really consisted of much, so as far as I was concerned, my day was pretty much done. Yet the sun had yet to set and there was little guarantee that I would see any sleep. Such was the gamble I was willing to take. It wasn’t like the apartment was a home, and it wasn’t like the quiet I had found was peace, but inaction in a confined setting was close enough to both of those things for the time being.

So when I opened the door and was about to make my way up the stairs, I was stopped by the landlord, a vile woman who always seemed to wear Hawaiian shirts and had dark sunglasses. Even at night.

“Lenora!” Shouted Abalone, the vile landlord in question, and an extraordinary cause of problems. Many times I’ve heard her cursing up a storm and pounding on doors, demanding her toll like she was on a bridge and not in an apartment complex. Coupled with those demands were the threat of eviction, which I would then wait until she was done with her tirade, walk up to the doors of the people she made miserable, and slipped rent money underneath their door. All so I could get some peace and quiet in my own apartment.

“How many times have I told you to call me Len? Len Arietty!” I reminded her. Two of us could shout, even though I really didn’t like to raise my voice. It was such a chore to do.

(But yes, I went by Lenora, because it seemed much more name-like of a name than Remora, which was not a very name-name)

“Hmph. I’ll call you the name you put on your lease and nothing more,” she stuck her nose up, that self-righteous attitude which was unwarranted.

Nobody appreciates a good pun these days. That’s the problem with modern society.

“And I won’t call you at all. Because I don’t have a phone,” I pointed out. I had a phone, but it was back at a certain diner which wouldn’t be named (I was pretty sure it didn’t have a name, anyway).

“You should get one. What if you’re late on a payment and need an extension?” She hung over my head, but being that I just ate, I didn’t take the bait.

I could buy out the apartment complex, myself, if I wanted to, and I would do it just to put you out of a job.

“Have I ever been late on a payment, Abalone?” I asked in turn, doing my best to make a little baby voice, along with it.

“One day, Lenora. One day,” she warned. What she was trying to warn, however, wasn’t clear.

“One day what? Which day? Tuesday? Just any old day?” I asked, genuine in my confusion.

“Just one day,” she growled.

“Okay, fine, don’t tell me which day it will be,” I was exhausted enough as it was, I wasn’t about to play any guessing games, “uh, one day to you, too, and take care?”

I trudged up the stairs. There was nothing more to speak about and if I wanted to be confused, I’d just go seek out any other social interaction.

After a sluggish march, I stood at the door to Apartment 108. The most basic of numbers. Totally inconspicuous. My hands shook and felt frostbitten as I struggled to place the key in its respective hole. It was a delicate process, one with many fumbles, and at one point I dropped the key. It wasn’t one of my proudest moments, but I didn’t care for such things as ‘pride’ and any grandiose reactions were just a waste of breath.

Inside of the apartment was a sparse collection of what was necessary and nothing more: a small kitchen with a refrigerator, toaster, and microwave oven. None of those things went used, as I preferred to eat out (in spite of the presence of other people), but at times I would press the lever for the toaster down, just so I could try to feel the warm currents against my hands. When that didn’t happen, I would feel compelled to stick my hand in, but so far, I’ve resisted.

Aside from those things, there was a closet with a box of clothing. Shampoo, conditioner, and a bar of soap. None of those things were very impressive and showers always felt awkward. It was just standing there and letting water fall on me, worse, no matter how much I turned the dial, it remained cold. Then when I stepped out of the shower, and steam came out, but I continued to be a shivering mess, I just felt like a fool.

When I slept, if I slept, I would lay on my back in the middle of the floor, wrapped up in a snuggie (yes, that very same snuggie gifted to me from Cybele, some random woman who lived in an airport. While I didn’t really know her, so I couldn’t even hope to care about her, I refused to allow myself to forget such a kind gesture. Besides, snuggies are...snug) and a space heater next to me to keep me company. Even if the space heater did nothing, it was the gesture, what it represented...or maybe I was just desperate. Like, maybe one day, I would actually feel what I was meant to.

Most of the time I laid on the floor, regardless of sleep. It was just what I did. Dwell on things, like life, what I’ve been through, events that had transpired, and who I was. None of it ever did me anything good and any questions I had on life never went answered. It sucked not even having a phone, as there were probably hundreds of thousands of memes that I was missing out on. Things I would never understand without the context, and even then, sometimes things were better without the context. Small price to pay to live in the isolation I so desired, I suppose.

But let’s not dwell on that. Let’s not dwell on my dwelling. If rest may come, then let it come. That was enough.

By now, there must have been an apparent contradiction: if I wanted to isolate myself, why live in a populated area? In fact, I was probably better isolated in the arctic, but that place was so. Damn. Cold.

Well, the answer was a strange one, and it was both an advantage and disadvantage: with all the crowds of people in a city, most people didn’t care who you were. Paid you no mind. Then again, when there were crowds, there was always the possibility that they would pay you mind. In fact, that meant even more people with their watchful eyes who would want nothing more than to react to your every move and mistake. Any quirk or sudden motion that didn’t fit with the norm and those faceless entities were sure to pounce.

But the same thing could happen in a less populated area, and in fact, in a place less popular, you would know for a fact that people were talking about you. That was terrible and bad and uncool. Would not recommend.

Of course, I had a solution, and it was to just not care. When that solution failed, which 9.9 times out of 10, did, I wandered into the town square where there was a fountain and park benches scattered around and took a seat. For whatever reason, few people ever occupied the town square, and especially not in the morning. Someone more inquisitive might have wondered why that was, but I wasn’t about to question a good thing.

Down on the ground was a crow that hopped about. Rather than pigeons, the city seemed to be more dominated by crows. Wasn’t complaining, birds were birds. Could’ve been a cockatrice and I wouldn’t have anything to say on the matter. Of course, I stared down at the crow and their little hops. My palm was against the side of my face and I leaned forward.

“Look at you: are you dancing for others or just to dance? Or is that just how you walk?” I asked the little bird. Then, out of boredom, I dug into my jacket pocket and tossed some bird seeds the crow’s way.

“Make no mistake: I’m not rewarding you for your dance. I’m just bored,” I informed the crow, not that the crow cared. In the crow’s eyes, a free snack was a free snack.

As of late, it’s become a routine of mine to toss stuff at crows. It started one day (probably not the day that landlord was referring to) situated at the town square where I thought of nothing in particular and I had a sandwich in my hand. Some pieces of the sandwich and when a crow started eating the fallen piece, I got a little annoyed.

“Get your own sandwich, crow,” I remember scolding the black bird. My words didn’t seem to deter the crow at all (what could I say? I wasn’t a very threatening person) and I didn’t really care to scold the crow any further. It was just a sandwich, after all. But after that day, I took it upon myself to buy some bird seeds at the local bird seed store.

“Just so you know, just because I’m doing this nice thing, I don’t care about you,” I told the crow, then tossed another handful of birdseed. That crow just pecked away.

“See? That’s what I like about you: you don’t care either. I could call you a dummy stupid butt bird and you wouldn’t have anything to say, would you? I could call you a big stinky hairy butt bird.”

Yep. Nothing to say. The crow looked up at me for a brief second. I gave a small wave, and then they went right back to eating.

“Why can’t more people be like you, crow? We have a mutual apathy for each other and we still get along just fine…” I think I was starting to think things I didn’t want to think about.

Just as I was about to seed the crow further, that little opportunist looked away, then flew off.

Looks like we got a dine and dasher.

“Heh, were you offended by what I said after all?” I wondered aloud. If anyone saw me they must have wondered, “what was that crazy lady doing in that thick jacket, shivering and talking to a crow?” But what were they doing watching me for? If anything, they were the crazy ones for watching.

Maybe the bench would be a nice place for a nap, if I could find any tiredness at all. I tapped my foot and pondered my options.

“What to do...what to do…”

Before I could figure that out, the crow returned (or at least, a crow returned. Could’ve been any old crow).

That crow landed next to my feet and set down something on the ground. I spread my legs and peered down to find a silver coin.

“What...what the...no. No, no, no. That’s not part of the deal. You’re not supposed to give me money, look,” I reached into my pocket and pulled out several hundred dollar bills, “I’ve got plenty of that. I’m just doing this out of boredom.”

Instead of doing the sensible thing and taking off with the quarter after realizing their mistake, the stubborn crow pushed the quarter closer to me with their beak.

“Dude, you’re being real pushy. Don’t you know that’s a real turn off?”

Again, the crow remained persistent, and having had enough, I got up and shooed the crow away.

“Go on, begone with ye!” I waved my hands away, and the crow at last took off, although I noticed that the quarter was still next to me. What a hassle.

“Would it be bad if I didn’t take this? I mean, what if that crow was actually a fairy in disguise and if I don’t take their payment, they’ll curse me?” I pondered. There was no real need to ponder, as I knew that fairies weren’t real (although there were creatures from outside of earth that were fairy-like) and it wasn’t like my life wasn’t already cursed from the day I was born. But still, if fairies were real…

OK. I took the quarter. Better safe than sorry.

My next plan of attack was...my growling stomach. Well, that was unexpected, but who would I be to not quell the beast?

Whenever I felt that beast (my stomach) roar, I did what any sensible person would do and I went and got coffee. Back in my diner days, I never really gave coffee much thought despite it being a signature drink at such places. Yes, I was aware of its existence, but I never really saw value in it. Now, having lived a new life filled with self-discovery and wonder, I learned the truth: coffee was like a drink and a meal all in one. Well, it helped to also get a meal along with the coffee. Maybe I’d consider that.

I looked around and as luck would have it, there was a coffee shop situated just behind where I had sat, obscured by tables with umbrellas and kiosks (one selling deep-fried portabella mushrooms, the other selling horseshoe crab enthusiast magazines with little horseshoe crab plushies hanging off the ceiling of the kiosk). Drip Drip Drop Coffee was the name of the place, and with a name like that, it was almost certain that the coffee was top quality.

“I know a place…” I mouthed the words, then stepped forward and into Drip Drip Drop. An ominous feeling followed me along as I entered. There were indeed far too many people. There were at least five people inside, and worse yet, some were conversing with each other. Not seated were three people in line who I had to stand behind. As much stomach continued to growl, I looked up at the menu.

Oh, thank goodness, they have sandwiches. Sub sandwiches, to boot. I think I’ll order a cold cut. Every kind of meat on it. Double stacked. You know, now that I think about it, why are they called ‘sub’ sandwiches? I get it’s short for submarine, but it doesn’t even look like a submarine. It looks like a sandwich. Makes me think that whoever named it didn’t even know what a submarine looked like. That, or didn’t know what a sandwich looked like, and just thought everything else that wasn’t a submarine was just like a submarine, but not. Maybe it’s called that cause some bored person in a submarine had enough materials to make a sandwich, and they just happened to be in a submarine when they made it. On that note, I’m willing to bet that if you drop a sub sandwiches in the ocean, it will, indeed, get soggy.

“Monster energy iced cappuccino with quadruple shot espresso for ‘Boruto’!” One of the baristas shouted. I found that to be an odd name, but a little curious, I looked around and saw some average height scrawny woman in a camouflage print hoodie as well as camo pants whose brown ponytail poked out from her backwards cap.

“Heh. Heh heh heh. They probably think my name really is Boruto. Suckers,” sneered the gremlin-like stranger.

I shook my head. Didn’t people have better things to do than give poor baristas a fake name? They were already underpaid and overworked as it was, no need to humiliate them further.

“Hello? Are you going to order?” Asked a faint and soft, but cheery voice. I looked around, then heard a tap against the counter. That was when I realized that there was no longer a line in front of me and I was supposed to be the next to order.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sorry,” I stepped forward. Behind the counter was a young woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties and had wavy, pink hair along with three piercings along both ears. On each cheek were three freckles.

“That’s fine! There’s no one behind you!” She informed me in a sing-song like voice. Indeed, there was no one behind me, much to my relief. But something told me that I would have noticed had there been someone behind me.

“Oh, huh. You’re cute,” I remarked, and realizing that had been spoken aloud, I continued as if nothing was said, “I’ll get a…” I shivered much more than I meant to and it felt more like a jolt.

“Air conditioner?” She asked.

I gave a feeble nod.

“Yeah, it’s always out of wack. I get it’s a warm day and all, but seriously, does it have to feel like we’re in the freakin’ arctic?”

Finally someone who gets it. Or at least I don’t have to make up a big excuse.

“Yeah...Okay. I think I’m ready. I’ll get a mocha and a c...co…” the shivering continued.

“Take your time.”

I really don’t want to. I want to be in, then out.

“Cold cut sandwich,” I sped through the words.

“Great! And how do you want your coffee?”

“Cold...too…” I answered through grit teeth.

“Mm...mm...I get it. Yeah. Hot day, cold coffee. Makes sense. Yeah.”

That had nothing to do with it. Maybe it didn’t make sense for me to get it, what with the whole idea of wanting to feel warmth, but the thing was, when I drank hot coffee, it just tasted like cold anyway. So if I got cold coffee, at least I could taste it. Besides, it’ s not like the temperature of the coffee really changes the body’s temperature. It’s not like people dump cold coffee on their head on a hot day, or hot coffee on their head on a cold day. That’ s not how it worked.

I fished out the handful of hundred dollar bills and set them on the counter.

“Uh, keep the change? Bye.” “Wait,” she called out before I could get very far, “Can I get a name for the order?”

Crap. Name. Think, think…

“Karen,” that was a rather unassuming name with no connotations attached whatsoever, unlike something like Rhea. “Karen Alotte.”

“What kind of name is that?!” Shouted the annoying ponytail gremlin, “At least Boruto is an actual name! Fictional, mind you, but still real!”

I lowered my head. Customers really were the worst.

“Don’t let it get to you,” the barista told me. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a name that’s not Boruto.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” I wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Well, I wouldn’t have to deal with any annoying customers and their pointless comments much longer. About five minutes later, my name was called and I headed out the door without a second thought, back to where I was situated in the town square. While I didn’t know the time, I assumed it was about noonish, give or take some minutes.

Now there were two crows when once was one. It must have been a good omen, all because I took that quarter.

“Hey guys. Look what I got,” I pointed to my sandwich. Those crows didn’t so much as look up.

“Well, that’s fine, too. I’m not offering you any.”

One iced coffee later, and halfway through my sandwich, I heard a distinct voice yell out from behind me.

“YOU’RE CUTE TOO!” Their voice rang through the air and I turned around and saw a girl with pink hair who stood before me, one foot in front of the other, and cupped her mouth with her hands.

I turned back to the crows.

“Get a load of this girl,” I pointed my thumb behind me and told them, “I feel bad for whoever she’s calling to.”

Seeing as no one else had it in their hearts to break the news to her, I took it upon myself. After all, I was cold enough to not hold back.

“Hey, girl! You’re embarassing yourself!” I shouted back to her. “Everyone around can hear you!”

She looked over at me and stood up straight, then blinked.

“Oh. Sorry,” she replied, then walked over. “I was trying to get your attention, actually.”

I pointed to myself.

“Me? Cute? Why?” I was most confused. I didn’t recall ever being called ‘cute’ before.

“Does it have to be said?” She gave a smile that looked like she was about to burst into laughter. “Your puffy jacket, your short black hair, your nervousness,” she began to list.

“The nervousness isn’t cute...I’m just generally uncomfortable,” I corrected.

“Okay, well, still! You said I’m cute, and I think you’re cute too! Just accept it!”

I looked away and blushed. So that’s what it was all about, huh? I just had to say that out loud and now I was reaping the consequences?

“So it was you,” I muttered.

“Yeah, I know, it’s weird, right? It’s just that I’ve always been told that by creepy dudes and not someone as attractive as yourself,” she remarked.

“I’m not at...at...I’m repellent,” I concluded, and put my hands on my hips all proud.

“Oh, sure. Tell yourself that,” she slouched over and groaned, then perked right back up. “Hey! Can I sit next to you?”

I looked around.

“It is possible,” I informed her. I didn’t know why she would want to, seeing as there were plenty of other places to sit elsewhere, but unless she had a condition that made it hard for her to sit down, then I didn’t see why that would be a problem.

She sat down and I felt a wave of discomfort come over me.

It was so much easier to eat a sandwich when I didn’t have someone sitting next to me.

“Shouldn’t you be at work right now?” I asked.

“It’s my lunch break! I’m usually not very hungry on my lunch breaks, so I usually wait to eat until I’m off work. Because of that, I usually have a lot of free time, and since I’m a very social person, I tend to have conversations with random people.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that. What if you end up talking to someone dangerous?” I suggested.

“Hmm...that’s a good point. Are you dangerous?”

“Not at the moment, no,” I replied without thought.

“Then I think it’s fine to talk to you, no?”

I shrugged.

“Do what you want.”

She beamed a bright grin, but it took about a solid minute before she had anything more to say and instead she just kicked her legs back and forth against the bench. It was a little creepy.

“So, Karen, was it?” She leaned her head forward and asked.

“That was a name I used, yes.”

“Oh? That’s not your name?”

Damn it. I shouldn’t have phrased it that way.

“I’m...still trying to figure out a name,” I admitted.

“What do you mean?”

I let out a heavy sigh. If there was something I cared about...then that one thing was something I didn’t want to care about. But I had to be delicate in my apathy.

“Well, it’s like...I was going by a different name for a little while and before that, I had a different name, my original name. I also had many other names, but that original name, that was who I considered myself to be. You follow?”

She nodded.

“I think so. Go on?”

Why? Oh, well. If I’m committed to not caring, then I have to treat this with a carefree attitude.

“Thing is, that name didn’t really make me uncomfortable in of itself. I once went to a meeting just for the hell of it and decided to talk about the name issue with them, too, and they thought I was referring to a ‘deadname’, which I didn’t know what that was, so someone explained it and mad respect to trans people, but that’s not quite what I mean.”

“All right. So what do you mean?”

“Well, I guess you can think of it like a deadname. Because it’s like, imagine there was another me, like, hypothetically, and it’s like that other me died. That other me, who shared that name, no longer exists, and can’t exist, but they still follow me. Not physically, but it’s like I’d get compared to how she was, the good and the bad. Worse, I compared myself to that other me. I felt inferior at times, other times I desired to be superior. It was like I was living in a shadow of myself and I didn’t know any other way to escape from it but to change my name. Thing is, though, all the names I’ve come up with just haven’t feel right, either.”

“So, you’ve been trying to escape from yourself?” She asked, now less inquisitive and more sounding confused.

“Yeah, funny enough, I think I have been, and I don’t know what it is: whether or not I can fundamentally change or whether or not I want to. I mean, I’m comfortable enough, as uncomfortable as my existence is, but I also didn’t want to associate with that other me. Hypothetically, I mean.”

“Right. It’s easy to say ‘don’t compare yourself to others’ but I suppose it’s harder when you have this idealized version of yourself that you compare to? I know I get thoughts like, ‘I should be better than this. I know I can be smarter, so why do I have this job?’ Which can then spiral down and...yeah…”

I wasn’t really sure what she was referring to. She had me in the first half, not gonna lie, but then it just fell apart in the second half.

“You sound like you need therapy,” I pointed out, “but anyway, I think what it comes down to is, there’s over a million people with that name, or at least five. Sure, she was one version of me, but does that mean that two people can’t have the same name? I don’t think so. Maybe I’m not exactly like her, but she lived her life and I’m living mine. So I think I’m ready now,” I concluded, then looked over to her and tried my best to give a smile. It was only slight. But progress was progress.

“One talk and you’re ready?” She looked surprised.

My heart took a huge leap. It was probably the coffee, but it could have also been because of what I was about to say.

“Yeah. I’m Rhea Flection.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Miss Flection. My name’s Ceres. Ceres Lee.”

Aww...everything was going so well, too…

I got up.

“Nope. Nope. Not doing this again. I’m out,” I took a few steps away.

“What?!”

Oh, come on, me. If you can get past one name, you can get past another.

I sucked in my pride, which in this case, was just my breath, and I walked right back and sat right back down.

“Okay, sorry. That was rash,” I admitted. “Also, I left my sandwich behind.”

I picked it up and continued eating.

“What was that all about?” She asked.

“I once knew someone with a name similar to yours and she was very dear to me,” I confessed. “But I didn’t care about her. Though I wanted to be friends with her, and close with her, but...I guess can’t really do that when you’re unable to be close with others.”

“Okay, so it’s someone dear to you that you don’t care about?” She asked as she counted on her fingers. What she counted, I wasn’t sure.

“Yes. Exactly. See, you get it. By the way, I don’t have feelings for you.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to.”

Damn, she got me there.

“But yeah, her name was Demetria, and Ceres is the Roman equivalent of Demeter...yeah, I know, I’ve done my research, but in my defense, I only found that out recently. Anyway, she was kind of a nuisance and I didn’t really understand much of her behavior and I was just fine being on my own. But I don’t know, something kind of happened over time and then I got sick and I really wanted to confide my whole life and then I told her something I shouldn’t have. I mean, it felt right at the time, but it wasn’t true.”

“What was it?”

“That I didn’t care about her.”

Her mouth hung low and she tilted her head, like she was just about to throw up.

“Okay...but didn’t you just tell me that you don’t? I swear, you keep contradicting yourself.”

“I know! My head was a mess then and it’s a mess now. I didn’t understand and rather than think about it, I decided that I didn’t want to and so I haven’t been, but it still bothers me.”

“Sounds like you need a therapist,” she pointed out.

“Hey, that’s what I told you.”

“Yeah, and how do you know I don’t have one?”

Argh. I didn’t consider that one.

“I don’t know. I think I still need to figure out how to identify that I care about something. That would be a good first step. But still, I wish I could take it back. I can at least identify that as a mistake.”

“So, Rhea Flection? You didn’t do any self-reflection?”

I scowled.

“Ceres Lee? Seriously?”

She nudged me, I nudged her back. We both laughed.

“I can’t believe you called me cute only to talk about another girl,” she laughed, “do you know what that all sounds like to me?”

Don’t say ‘love’. Please.

“What?” I asked, as much as I’d rather not hear the answer.

“It sounds like I’m in some kind of romantic comedy! Like I walked into a movie set and I didn’t even know it!”

“Oh, come on. These things can happen. This isn’t fiction, it’s real life.”

“I know, I know,” she laughed and wiped away some sweat from her eye. “It’s just...so cliché, y’know?”

“I guess,” I grumbled, “but if I’m gonna be feeling things, I’d like to know that I’m feeling things.”

Ceres pulled out her phone.

“Oh hey, I still have like fifteen minutes before I gotta get back. Wanna walk around town a bit?”

“Sure, but I don’t see why,” I replied and shrugged.

We walked past her place of employment, past the various shops, and continued to wander.

“I need to kill off time. I’m not about to go back to work early!” She explained.

Makes sense, but why am I tagging along?

“Look! It’s a hat shop!” She’d point out, or, “look! An ostrich museum!”

My eyes scanned around throughout; nothing of interest stood out to me, but I didn’t want to miss anything in case something caught my eye.

From an alleyway shot out a thin thread-like appendage in Ceres’ direction. Acting fast, I ducked, then shoved Ceres out of the way. She wobbled a bit, lost her balance, then fell. Still better than whatever that thing would’ve done to her.

“Hey, what was that for?!” She balked.

“Sorry. Just wait here,” I instructed.

I ran into the alleyway. It may have been nothing or it may have been a trap. Even if I had ran right into a trap, I would much rather have done so than endanger some stranger I just met.

At first, I saw nothing out of the ordinary, just a dead-end alleyway with a dumpster and a brick wall in the very back. Then, as if materialized from the shadow cast by the enclosed area, was a dark cloaked figure with a blank white stone mask over where their face should have been. Behind the mask was a thick head of long, flowing golden hair. They pointed one near-skeletal thin hand forward, and out from the cloak, released several more of those appendages.

I ducked and rolled toward the side of the wall.

“You have evaded every one of my traps, and in some cases, were already lying in wait with a countermeasure,” they spoke, a solemn monotone, not unlike my own voice, but with a wispy tone of sorrow attached.

“Uh, sorry for being smart, I guess?”

They shook their head.

“Even as those you’ve allied yourself with in the arctic are encased in an inescapable fog, you remain unharmed. But that all ends now. Once you are gone, I will have no need for such drastic measures.”

After hearing those words, I was stunned and I felt the shivers return, along with a tenseness I didn’t anticipate.

“What are you talking about? For that matter, who are you?” I forced out the words, a heavy and chilly breath let out along with them.

“The fact that you don’t know only makes it worse,” uttered their cryptic reply.

From behind me I heard the clacks of shoes and caught in the corner of my eye, Ceres, running up to me.

“What’s going on? Who is this guy?” She asked.

“No offense, but I think they’d just give you the same answer they gave me,” I replied without much thought, and then upon realizing who was next to me, turned to scold. “I thought I told you to stay where you were!” I hissed.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why!” She argued.

“That’s because I didn’t know what was up, but you should trust that I wouldn’t just push somebody for no reason!”

My presumed enemy spoke up and freed me from my distraction.

“So I see you’ve brought someone else with you. Rather unfortunate, but I will dispose of you both.”

“Go. Now,” I hissed at Ceres.

She looked at me, then over to the cloaked figure.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good call,” she nodded, and began to run out, but fell.

“Ow! It’s like there’s an invisible wall or something,” she rubbed her forehead.

They must have set up a bounded field. They’re really expecting to trap us in and kill us both.

Each of their arms stretched out now and the fingers on each hand turned to little blades. Along with that, several thorny vines protruded from each arm.

“Okay. This guy certainly isn’t normal,” in fact, I’m reminded of a previous encounter. “Ceres,” I addressed her, “I’m much better at taking a life than I am defending one, so I suggest you take cover behind that dumpster.”

“Taking a li – What are you talking about?!” She cried out.

Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“Nothing you need to worry about. I’ll take any hits that come, so just take cover.”

At last, she did as I instructed, and hid behind the dumpster.

With little time to react, I covered my head with each arm as the vines shot forth my way. Their thorns cut right into my arms and I felt each sting. I ducked under to avoid any more hits, and moved forward toward the figure, whose arms were poised to strike me. Before they could slice through me, I grabbed one of their arms and tossed them into the nearby wall, their back slammed again and they fell back.

“Let me guess: Buddy Fairweather?” I asked as I stood back up.

“Took you long enough. He was just a spare corpse, but I was the man who spoke through him, yes,” oozed out his voice as he picked himself back up.

Spare corpse?

“I should have known better to assume it would end with him,” I remarked. If I recall, I even figured that things wouldn’t end, but just like a fool, I forgot all about it.

“How unfortunate, indeed. But it will end with you. You’re powerless without your rifle. Worse, you have no weapons, nor any means of defense.”

I hate to admit, but he’s right. I can take some hits, I’ve got my reflexes, but I’m unequipped against a supernatural being.

“Hey Ceres! Find me something to use as a weapon, will ya?” I called over.

“You want me to go dumpster diving?!” She called back.

“Yeah!”

She stood up and opened the lid and I saw several of those vines launch toward her again.

“Nope!” I kicked my leg up and stamped those series of vines out of the way. His clawed hand struck at my leg and I lifted it higher just to avoid them.

That was a close call.

“I found a metal rod!” Ceres exclaimed.

How convenient.

She tossed it over, but a few of those vines caught it instead. They worked together to bend, then snap them in half. Desperate, I grabbed onto them from the base of one of his arms and yanked against them. As I squeezed and tugged, the thorns from the vines tore against my palm and bled through. I would just have to endure a bit of bleeding.

As I exerted my strength, I slammed the group of vines against the wall. At the same time, they were successful in snapping the metal rod in half, but also dropped the split pieces as well. I hurried and picked them up in each hand, and at that same instance, he tried to strike down with both of his bladed hands. I caught them with both rods.

I then ducked down and released the rods, then shoved them both into his chest. To my surprise, blood seeped through the wound.

“Rhea! Are you okay?” Ceres shouted.

Jeez. No discretion at all.

“So you’re going by that name, now? Before you only used it as a ruse, but now you embrace it?” He asked, still alive, even through what should have been a fatal wound. But of course, I knew better than to consider something so simple to be fatal. Not when I wasn’t dealing with a simple person in the first place.

“What’s it to you?” My lips spread to an ecstatic smile.

“I only find it amusing, is all,” he seemed to smile as well, then took one of his hands and swiped right at me. I managed to pull out one of the rods to block the attack, but in the process of trying to pull out the other, his other hand swiped faster than I could react and slashed across my face. Small cuts formed along my cheek. As much as he got a clear hit in, I was most surprised to find how little I felt from it.

“Are you hurt?!” Ceres cried out.

Blood ran down from my cheek, but I only felt a little bit of a sting at best.

“No, I’m just bleeding,” I replied, then turned to my enemy, “don’t you know that if you wanna go in me, you have to go deeper?”

He tried to slash again, but I wouldn’t let him get away with it twice, not when I was sure he’d make for a more fatal cut the second time around. I pulled out the other rod, blood oozed from the gash in his chest, but he looked unfazed by the injury. I blocked his swipe, then kicked him back into the wall and plunged the tip of one of the split rods into his head. He blocked with his bladed hand, but it just went through as well and I continued to drive it in until it tore through his mask and wedged its way into his skull.

He gasped out and cracks formed in his mask until it broke off. In its place, instead of a face, looked to be a mass of worms.

“I take it that after I tear you apart, this won’t end?” I asked.

“Yes...this is but one feeble body…”

“Good to know,” I hissed, then took the other rod and jammed it back into his chest.

As he gasped out his last breaths, the worm-face caved in and formed something of a smile.

“Tell me: do you fear death?” He rasped.

I shook my head.

“No. But I fear what you might do with the dead,” I answered.

After that, his body dissolved into a black ooze, then a puff of smoke which fizzled up until it faded and there was no longer a single trace that anyone, or anything, was there.

I took several heavy breaths after that and dropped the metal rods to the ground.

“What was all that?!” Ceres stood beside me in shock. “For that matter, what did he mean by anything he said?! And ‘rifle’?”

“A rifle is a type of gun,” I informed her.

“I know that! Okay…” she took heavy breaths as well, more out of shock than anything, as she had no trace of injury save for some bruises from falling. “How do we get out of here and are you going to be okay? You’re badly injured!”

“This?” I looked down at my arms. “Nah. I’ve had worse. But that should’ve gone smoother, that’s for sure. All that tells me is that I’ve been slacking. But that was just the rush I need.”

I was smiling. Even a simple sense of heat from injuries were enough for me.

“What do you mean?”

I smiled.

“I guess I’m just never truly alive unless it’s in a fight.”

“Okay...you’re scaring me a little. But seriously, how are we going to get out of here? Weren’t we blocked off?”

I shrugged.

“Those barrier devices aren’t meant to last for a long time. They usually dissipate after a while,” I explained. They’re good when you want to trap someone in and are confident that you can take care of your target quickly. Less effective in prolonged fights. However, it’s more concerning that he had one set up at all. I don’t have to think very hard to understand the implications.

“Well, gee, ain’t that fucking convenient?” She just about gasped. Poor barista must’ve seen too much and if I had to guess, her head was spinning in a thousand different directions.

I unzipped my jacket and took it off, then dropped that on the ground as well. It was dirty now and did me no good, seeing how torn it had become due to the nature of the fight. As soon as I did so, I began to shiver with greater intensity.

“Are you all right?” She looked up and asked.

“Y-yeah...it’s just a condition of mine. Come on, let’s get out of here,” I folded my arms together and walked out from the alleyway. Sure enough, there was no barrier keeping either of us in.

“You know, I never noticed before with the jacket, but you’re really muscular,” Ceres pointed out.

“I’m surprised, myself, since I haven’t been very active in a while,” I replied. Though something tells me I’m ready to start working out again.

As soon as we stepped back out into the street, Ceres checked her phone.

“Crap! My lunch break just got over! My manager said that if I was late from my break again, she’d fire me! My life is over!” She started to freak out.

“Considering what we just went through, I’d say your life was almost over already,” I pointed out.

“This is so much worse! I don’t wanna be out of a job!” She began to whine.

“I think if you had died, you would have also been out of a job, just saying.”

“This is serious!”

I groaned. Talk about skewed priorities. Before I could argue further, she ran back toward the coffee shop.

“I’m not gonna make it in time!” She yelled as she ran. I chased after and soon caught up to her.

“You know, I don’t think your boss should fire you. If anything, it’s my fault you got into that mess,” I told her. After all, if she had literally gone to talk to anyone else, she might not have had that problem. Besides, whoever her boss was should be a little understanding over the fact that their employee’s life was threatened.

We both rushed into the coffee shop at once and she ran past the customers and into the back. I followed behind, even though that probably wasn’t allowed. But who was I to care about something like that?

In the back was a little area with a large porcelain sink and many dishes and soapy water filled to the top of it. At the back wall, where the uniforms were, stood the manager, a middle aged woman with curly red hair. Her arms were cross and she tapped her foot.

“Ceres Lee! What did I tell you would happen if you were back late from break again?” She growled.

“But...but..!” Ceres stammered and tried to come up with an explanation, but her words didn’t ever come.

“No excuses! You’re always slacking off!”

“Hey!” I cut in. Her managed turned to me and exchanged her cross expression my way.

Great. As if I really wanted to deal with confrontation.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“I’m a paying customer,” I informed her.

“Okay, well, this place is off limits, it doesn’t matter if you’re a customer or not.”

Do I look like I give a fuck what’s off limits?

“You shouldn’t fire her,” I refused to back down. “She was with me.”

“Trust me: she does this all the time. You’re not helping her case.”

I furrowed my brow and scrambled for an excuse.

“For your information, I’m her girlfriend!” I blurted out.

Ceres just looked at me all tense, her face red, and she shook it slow to tell me that what I just said was a bad idea. But as with most things, I didn’t care.

“My dear is always telling me how much she hates how little we have to spend together because of how busy you guys make her,” I came up with.

Tenser still, Ceres’s face didn’t move, but her eyes darted first to her manager, then toward me.

“Is this true? Is this person your girlfriend, Ceres?” Her manager asked.

Ceres broke a sweat, then gulped.

“Y...yes…” She squeaked out, almost inaudible.

“I see. I didn’t know we worked you so hard considering you’re PART TIME,” she just about spat in Ceres’ face. Manager or not, that just seemed unnecessary.

Looks like I’m going to have to embarrass myself now.

“Hey!” I snapped, then stepped up to the manager until she backed up into a wall. I raised my right leg up to the wall and planted my foot next to the manager’s head.

“Do you know why they call me ‘Karen Alotte’?” I growled as I asked her. She looked over to my leg in terror.

“Hey,” I snapped my fingers. “Eyes up here. Do you know why?” I asked again.

“B-Because it’s your name?” She took a feeble guess, fear having been struck in her. Just like Ceres, her face turned red as well.

“No. It’s because I be carin’. A lot,” I then pointed behind me. “Now, my girl over there, this job is important to her, and I know that if she loses it, she’s going to be hurt. She’ll cry. That girl means the world to me and if I know that she’s been hurt, there will be hell to pay.”

“I...I see…” She glanced over at my leg. How disgusting. Couldn’t even look me in the eye.

“Let me tell you something: when I first met Ceres, I thought she was a weirdo. I didn’t understand her at all. She’d say things like ‘I want her to step on me’ and ‘wow, she could kill me and I’d thank her’,” as I was about to go on, I was interrupted by Ceres:

“What?! Er...I mean, that’s private stuff!” She was doing her best to play along, I could tell. I ignored her outcry. I wasn’t finished.

“But over time, she grew into an amazing person, someone who was both admirable and admired me as well. Sure, she still says weird things sometimes, but I love her anyway, and I know I’ve said some hurtful things in the past, things like how I didn’t care about her, but how could I not care about her? I mean, she’s…” I looked over to Ceres. She tried to force a smile through clenched teeth. “Well, just look at her!”

“Ahem,” her manager cleared her throat. “I...see your point,” she then turned to her employee, “Ceres!”

Ceres stood up stiff.

“Yes, ma’am?” She shouted, as if she was a cadet in an army.

“I’ll let you off with another warning, just today, but try to separate your love life from work. Got it?”

“Yes,” she hung her head low.

“Good. Get yourself cleaned up and get back out on the floor!”

I waved to Ceres.

“Bye, honey,” I told her in a teasing voice. After that, I walked away. As soon as I stepped out from the coffee shop, I heaved out a huge breath.

“Damn, that was embarrassing. I’m never going to that coffee shop again,” I told myself, then headed back to the apartment. There were a few things I had to retrieve before I could leave town.

For the most part, I didn’t really have anything to take with me. I gave away all the items in the apartment, save for the snuggie. That I wrapped around myself like a cape. I told the landlord that she could go to hell, and as much as I could have bought that apartment complex out, I figured it would be a waste, since I wouldn’t do anything with it, and I was ready to ditch that whole city anyway.

I had to take a few flights, as the next city I visited turned out to be a bust. But someone suggested I try another city, so I went, and at last found what, or rather, who I was looking for.

“Well, well,” she smiled her sinister smile as her head was leaned back against a shack, “look who decided to show up.”

“Hey Wendy,” I waved and already felt like I was going to regret being there. Beside Wendy was a large cup from a fast food restaurant and she took it and sipped through the straw, then set it back down.

“Name’s Ellie Tomiko now,” she informed me with a sly smile that told me she wasn’t all too serious about that change.

“Okay. Whatever. Sure.”

“Oh, poo. You’re no fun,” she seemed disappointed, then offered her drink to me, “want some?”

I took her cup and took a sip, then spit it out.

“What is that crap?!” I exclaimed.

“What? Never had soda before?”

“I know what soda tastes like. That was not it.”

“Okay, so maybe it got flat and then turned warm from sitting out in the sun too long, but it's still good,” she took a sip to demonstrate. Her taste buds must’ve been broken.

“What’s the point of something being warm if I can’t feel it? There wasn’t even any steam.”

“Because not everything warm has steam and not everything’s about you,” she informed me.

“I never said anything was. It just doesn’t make sense to me, is all.”

“So everything warm doesn’t matter if it’s not steamy? What about love?”

That didn’t make sense to me. Leave it to her to impart the philosophical questions, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around how you could assign a temperature to an emotion.

“How do you make love steamy?” I asked her.

“Want me to show you?” She smiled that sly smile once again, and I decided I was better off not knowing.

“Nah. I don’t trust you. I can always look it up online later.”

“Very well. So what can I do for you? By the way, you just missed her.”

I wasn’t sure who she was talking about.

“Who?” I asked.

She ignored the question, just as I figured she would.

“How have you been?” She asked instead.

I shrugged.

“Fine, I guess. I’m still alive.”

“That makes one of you,” she observed. That kind of stung a little. “But good. It’s good to see you.”

“What about you?” I asked, out of courtesy.

“Can’t complain. I’ve got plenty of money now. I took your advice and checked out that diner. Ray’s got me working as an escort now.”

“An escort?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I help people along, get them to safety.”

“Why does he have you doing that for?”

“You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?” She asked right back instead.

Wrong. I have some idea.

“No. Tell me.”

“Basically, soon after you left, a thick fog filled the air and has remained since. Anyone who passes through it gets injured, and that’s only if they’re lucky. Some wind up dead. There’s no physical force that gives these injuries, but some people report seeing shadows in the fog, and others claim to hear voices, but can’t make out the words. Almost like the work of ghosts.”

This is all my fault. If not for my shortsightedness…

“Anyway, because of the properties of my sword, I’m able to pass through unharmed, even if it is difficult to navigate around. So Ray has me gather anyone I can and either send them to the diner, or send them to the nearest hospital. It hasn’t engulfed all of the arctic, but the fog seems to spread further with each passing day. All flights to and from the area have been canceled, in hopes of minimizing the risk.”

“What are you doing here, then?”

“It’s like an ebb and flow. Sometimes it eases up. Not the fog itself, but the damages. There’s periods where people don’t pass through. It’s still a risk being away, but he says he can afford to keep the place together as long as things don’t get too bad, but when things start to pick up again, the risk, the injuries, all that, I go back.”

“Are they all okay?” I asked.

“They’re still holding up, but it wears at them. I suspect it’s only a matter of time and they’d already be gone by now if not for outside help.”

“Outside help?”

“Yeah. They’ve practically made it into a full on restaurant again, except they don’t charge people. People sleep in the booths and any spare room there is. There’s a waitress and everything.”

Waitress. That brings to mind De...no, shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

“Who’s the waitress?”

She shrugged.

“Dunno. Some kid with white hair. She takes the orders, Tigershark makes the food. Ray and Sunny oversee the whole thing. It’s a mess, but they’re making it work.”

That’s at least somewhat of a relief.

Before I could probe her for any more questions, her phone rang.

Oh, that’s new. She has a phone.

“Well speak of the devil!” Ellie (or Wendy) exclaimed, “how’s it going, Ray? Guess who’s with me right now. R –” Before she could continue, I gestured to her by sliding my finger across my neck and scowling. For added measure, I kicked her in the shin. “– Ow. Rowdy Roger, my good friend Roger.”

She then held the phone away and covered it with her hands.

“What was that for?” She hissed.

“I don’t want him to know I’m here,” I muttered.

She shook her head and put the phone back up to her ear.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I was feeling a bit silly, sorry about that. Oh? That bad, huh? All right, I’ll be on my way. Just keep holding out, okay? Bye.”

She hung up and set the phone down.

“Well, looks like that’s my cue,” she announced.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“Why? Worried about them?”

I gulped. My head sunk.

She studied me, then spoke again:

“You miss them, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Well look at you, my little Remora’s grown up. She’s got emotions,” she remarked.

“Hey, don’t tease me,” I pouted. “It’s just...I left and I shouldn’t have and now this…”

“What about Demetria?”

Oh, of course she had to go there.

“Yes. I miss her too.”

She scratched her chin.

“What if you see her again and she’s not the same person you knew when you last saw her?”

“That doesn’t matter. I want to see her again. I want to see everyone again.”

“You know, I’ve seen her recently. She’s gotten stronger. She might even be strong enough to take you on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

Ellie let out a heavy sigh, then looked up.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, which I’m sure you will, but the two of you really piss me off.”

“What? Where is this coming from?” I was taken aback.

“You know where it’s coming from,” she smiled her usual smile, even if I could tell her words were sincere, “you start feeling things you don’t understand and what do you do? You get all worked up and leave. Do you know what you do when you don’t understand something?”

“What?” I asked, even though I didn’t really like the lecture.

“You work on figuring it out! It’s just like if you’re on a mission, you gather all the information you need, you look for a solution.”

“But it’s not a mission,” I corrected.

“It was important to you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Well if you won’t think about it when it’s important, maybe it would help to think of it as a mission. As for her, she’d go on and tell me how ‘it’s no longer part of my life, so it’s no longer important’ as if that makes any sense at all.”

“It doesn’t?” I asked. “It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Come on. You’re no longer a janitor, but that life affects you, does it not?”

Ugh…

“Yeah.”

“So don’t you think it’s dumb to be like, ‘well, that didn’t work out, so it no longer matters to me’ when it clearly does. You guys can have your little soap opera if you want, misunderstand to your heart’s desire, but I’d really like to be left out of it. I like you guys, but I’m not here to babysit.”

“Thanks, I think?”

She shook her head.

“No problem. So about this fog situation, what are you going to do about it? We can’t let it keep going on, can we?”

That time, it was my turn to shake my head.

“I’ll gather as much information as I can, then work toward a solution,” I concluded.

“Good. Now, I should start heading out.”

“How are you going to get there?” I asked.

“I’ll figure out a way. What about you?”

“Same.”

As she was about to turn away, I asked her:

“Hey. Can we...be friends?”

She turned around and blinked.

“Friends? Sure.”

“Cool. Can I have your number?”

She smiled and held out the phone.

“This isn’t my phone.”

“Oh,” well, that was a bust.

“What about you?” She asked.

“I don’t have a phone right now. But I’ll get one eventually.”

She gave a light chuckle.

“Well, Remora, I’m sure we’ll see each other soon one way or another. Take care, eh?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “You too.”

Before we parted ways, she added, “wait right here.” After about a minute, she came out from the shack and handed me a sheet of paper.

“This should give you some leads.”

I folded the paper and placed it into my pocket.

Once we parted ways, I read the note, then began to formulate a plan: first, I would have to dye my hair again. Then, I’d need a boat. In other words, it was time for me to get rid of all my money and do something drastic.