Roy found it so ironic that statistically, public speaking is what people feared most. Standing here, now, for some reason it was all he could think about. People feared speaking in public more than death; and the thought of that boggled his mind. Maybe before this happened, Roy could have sympathized with them, back when death was only something incurred by the battlefield and when coming back to Central meant that death would be left far behind, but not now.
Not since the day came that death visited him in Central. The day came that Maes Hughes had his life stripped from him without warning, his breath sheared away by a single bullet. Without preamble, without a chance to survive, and shockingly enough, without war, the man who had been his whole world was suddenly just gone, shot down in the streets of his home.
Public speaking is the world's number one fear. With one solitary tear running down his face, Roy could only continue to think about how foolishly, stupidly ironic that was. People are afraid of public speaking when his best friend is lying dead in a grave, covered over in earth. He had never thought about it before, but now Roy finally realized that his greatest fear had been death all along.
How can other people be so stupid?
