''God DAMNIT, Dave. Not everything always has to be about you, okay?! Do you understand what i'm saying? Do you understand that I have fucking problems of my own, you INSUFFERABLE ASSHOLE, and I can't constantly waste my time with your BULLSHIT.'' John yells, and you can tell he's on the verge of tears. You don't say anything.
''Oh, yeah, Of course. Be silent, with that goddamn smug face. Bye, Dave. Fuck you and good riddance.'' He says sharply, shouldering open the door and walking quickly past the room's window.
You take a deep breath, which hurts your lungs terribly, and then sigh.
Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you have just FUCKED THINGS UP ENTIRELY, yet again.
