suitably_heroic | Manhattan Portalocity Station and Beyond, Wednesday Afternoon

Cade came out of the station with a black eye and his right arm in a sling. "Hutts, it turns out, aren't understanding at all. Kark 'em."

"Could've told you that up front," Jack said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But hey, I was impressed by your optimism."

"Well, you know me," Cade said with a snort. "I known for my sunny optimism."

Or delusions of grandeur. One of those.

"Well, I guess at least you made it to... how old are you now?" J-- Atton shrugged casually.

Sure, Atton, asked the hard questions.

"Thirty-enough," Cade replied.

"It's not fair you didn't get a timeskip," Atton, with all his forty years, muttered. He shook his head. "Anyway, are you hungry? Because we can grab a bite on the way home."

Cade smirked. "You got olllllld."

"Okay, I like to think of being forty as a badge of honor, all right?" Atton complained (he was going to take that as a yes on the food front, and so started to walk). "Who ever expected me to reach my 40th birthday? Not me."

"You're only forty?" Cade teased. "You seem older."

Cade: still a shit.

"Says the guy whose liver is probably about two hundred years old at this point," Atton retorted. "Though I guess you make up for it with the brain of a toddler."

"And the body of a mid-tier god," Cade added.

"That Hutt really smacked you upside the head, huh?" Atton said, as he rounded the corner and headed into the next street. "Uh, so welcome to New York, by the way. The city that never sleeps but does know how to snore."

"It's cute," said, glancing around. "Smells a little like Nal Hutta."

Atton rolled his eyes. "Well, the city isn't run by a Hutt," he said, "... though to be fair, it's becoming harder to see the difference."

"Then you haven't been back in a while," Cade teased. "Hutts have a very distinctive...everything."

"So does our mayor," Atton said dryly. He shook his head. "Anyway, let's not talk local politics, or I'm going to have to go throw up and then maybe head down to Midtown with some eggs. How've you been, Hutts aside?"

"Busy," Cade said. "Bounty hunting's a great way to see the galaxy and get paid. Well, mostly get paid."

"Yeah, smuggling was like that too," said Atton, with a fond nostalgia. "You see anything particularly weird lately?"

"Other than the inside of a Hutt holding cell, which wasn't weird, just disgusting?" Cade frowned. "I had to go to Lotho Minor for some ship parts. That place is always weird."

"Lotho Minor," Atton said, his brow creasing as he tried to remember-- "Wait, isn't that a garbage dump?"

Literally.

"We needed discount repairs," Cade explained.

"That bad of a bounty streak, huh?"

They walked up to a small Mexican place, buried at the bottom level of a building. Atton nodded at the stairs before heading down.

Cade shrugged. "It happens."

Plus death sticks were expensive, but ANYWAY.

"Ooh. Tacos?"

"Tacos," Atton agreed, pushing his way into the Mexican place. "This is going to be dinner, probably. I think Dane's grabbing something fast on the way to work."

He nodded towards an empty seat. "Hope you haven't forgotten about Earth chillies."

"I remember them fondly," Cade said with a grin and a stunning lack of knowledge about the difference between his 18 year old stomach and now.

And so, Atton sat down. "I don't know if those are going to be famous last words or not."

"I make amazing decisions."

Hardly ever!

"Sure, that's why you're crashing in my spare bedroom while running from the Hutts," Atton replied, and looked up at the menu.

"I could've crashed somewhere else," Cade insisted. "I didn't have to be here."

"I feel like you're focusing on the wrong part of the sentence," Atton pointed out, and then looked at him, and added, more sincere, "Anyway, I'm glad you're here."

He resisted the urge to tack on a 'or whatever'.

"It hasn't be terrible so far," Cade agreed with a grin.

"Well, you've been here for like five seconds and you haven't seen my tiny apartment yet, which somehow is host to an endless supply of duplicating socks and magazines."

It had been weird finding out he was comparatively neat.

"I'm not gonna have to sleep on the socks, right?" Cade checked. "Otherwise, I don't care."

"Nah, you just get the room with all the instruments," Atton said. "It's about the size of a closet, which out here is considered comfy."

He gave a little wave to passing staff.

"I normally sleep on a ship, so this will be fine," Cade said. "The chance id waking up because someone is shooting at me us probably lower, too."

"In our neighborhood, practically nonexistant," Atton said. And then he turned to the server and ordered a couple of tacos. "Honestly, you're going to be bored out of your skull," he added, when he was done.

"Sounds like it," Cade agreed. "Why'd you move here?"

"Originally?" Atton asked, as the server walked away. "I was hurting - a big, stoic, manly kind of hurting - and recently set free from therapy, and any big Earth city would do. Easy to get lost in, without the threat of some Hutt shooting you down or random Sith lords popping up out of the woodwork."

He shrugged. "Then I started meeting people," he said. "Dane needed a place to crash and I didn't mind having somewhere quiet to touch down every now and again, so..."

"Now you live in mid-sized town on a backwater planet," Cade teased. "But at least it has tacos."

"Pretty great food culture in general," Atton said. "I know a few places down in Chinatown that would really burn your face off, just in case you really do get bored."

He looked past Cade at the wall for a second. "Personally, I've had enough adrenaline for a lifetime or three."

"That's because you're old," Cade told him.

"Old and traumatized and heavily therapized," Atton said, faux-cheerfully. "I was pretty close to doing something insanely stupid to myself a few years ago. The near-death experiences weren't helping."

"Probably not," Cade agreed. "Can I get a drink before having to spill my guts here?"

"I mean, the server left five seconds ago," Atton said, "But I'm sure they won't mind pouring you a pitcher of tequila."

He waved one back over.

"All good decisions are made after tequila," Cade agreed, putting in his order.

"Maybe you can get that tattooed on your arm tonight," Atton said. "Or maybe your forehead."

They brought him his soda.

"I'm too old to tattoo my forehead," Cade said, arching up a curious eyebrow at Atton's drink.

"Finally found something you're too old for, huh," Atton said, pouring it into his glass. He looked back up at Cade. "I don't drink much these days."

Hadn't for years, but he used to at least put in the effort to pretend.

"Weird," Cade said helpfully, "but it's not like you can get the good stuff from home here anyway."

"Yeaaah, no juma juice on the menu," Atton said, with a little sigh. He nodded over at the incoming booze. "You'll just have to deal with that insane amount of the local stuff."

"I'll do my best," Cade said with a smile. "It's wrong to waste it."

"We'll go do karaoke sometime, then I'll join you on the booze," Atton said wryly.

And lo, the booze was set down at their table.

"I am amazing at karaoke," Cade said. It helped that he was born with a capacity to feel shame.

"I'm a professional musician," Atton countered, sipping his soda.

It had to be said copious amounts of alcohol were a great leveller.

Edited 2025-02-22 19:41 (UTC)

"I'm not throwing my underwear at you," Cade told him.

Atton pulled a face. "You better not. It's probably radioactive and psychotropic."

"I do not know what that second word means," Cade said airily.

"Drugs," Atton said. "I'm saying your underwear is probably full of drugs."

"Well, where else would you keep drugs?" Cade asked.

"I'm not even going to answer that because just thinking about it makes me want to throw myself into an incinerator," Atton said. "Drink your tequila, tacos are coming soon."

Cade grinned just long enough to make it deliberately weird, then nodded.

Atton rolled his eyes. "Troll," he muttered.

But then there were tacos.

"This one's on me," he added. "Which I will regret."

"You always regret hanging out with me," Cade said, winking.

Atton snorted. "I can't argue with that," he said. "Tried to explain the camel thing to Dane the other day and I realized very quickly that all I had was 'well, it's Cade'."

"It made sense at the time!"

Not even then, no.

"Nah," Atton said. "I think you and Sparks did it because it didn't make any sense at all."

"That also sounds like us," Cade admitted.

Atton made an amused noise. "You two were definitely having the time of your lives back then," he said.

And him limping after them, pretending to be just the same.

"We were young and stupid," Cade said.

"Still kinda stupid now," Atton said, and took a sip of his soda.

"I make up for it by being so good looking," Cade told him.

"Yeah, no, you don't," Atton informed him. "I guess we can give you points for being too tough to kill?"

"I'll take that," Cade said, refilling his tequila.

Atton watched him with the tequila for a second. Then: "You think there's anything that could make you put down the whole flying around, causing trouble, running outta town with your pockets full of credits life?"

"Getting killed," Cade said. "It's not like I went to college. This is what I'm good at."

Atton shrugged.

"You've always seemed very clear on that," he said. "Maybe I was a little jealous of that, back in the day."

Cade snorted. "My clarity of thought?"

"You know who you are and what you want out of life," Atton pointed out. "Not everyone can say that."

Cade shrugged. "Fair enough," he agreed.

"Sorry if you thought I was spitting on that last year," Atton offered. "I wasn't."

Cade shrugged again, then sipped his glass. "It was a long time ago, so even if you were, I wouldn't care all that much."

"You sure?" Atton said, arching an eyebrow. "Because you seemed kind of pissed."

"I have good memories of our last year," he said finally. "Didn't know you didn't."

Well, mark that as the first time Atton vaguely wished he had a real drink in his hands.

"It's complicated," he said finally. "They're not bad memories, exactly. But I was imploding the entire time I was in school. The best I had was walking after you and Sparks and acting like I fit in."

"We were your good examples?" Cade asked. "Kriff, that's grim."

Atton shrugged. "I know," he said. "Though in retrospect, of all the people I hung out with back then, you were probably actually the least stressful. Who knew."

"And now?" Cade asked.

"You?" Atton shrugged. "I dunno. Talking to you at the bar last year was kind of a wake-up call. Didn't realize I'd made you collateral damage in my catastrophic break-up with... well, everything that came before."

"To live here," Cade said. "Or is this just a stop on the way to somewhere else?"

Well.

Good question.

"I don't think so," Atton said. Slowly. "I think-- maybe this place works for me."

He glanced towards the door. "Though I can never shake the feeling I'm gonna die back in our galaxy. Probably somewhere remote and terrible."

"There's a lot of remote and terrible there," Cade agreed, "but also really kriffing great."

"Maybe in your time," Atton snorted. "In mine, everything's falling apart. That's why it was so easy to just keep fighting: I'd take a break next time, after I doused this one last fire..."

"Oh, the Sith are getting feisty again," Cade said, "but I stay off their radar."

For now.

"Feisty how?"

"It's always the same play, isn't it?" Cade asked. "Attempted galactic takeover."

Atton shrugged one shoulder. "Feels different when you're on the inside."

"How so?" Cade asked. "Just in case I land on the wrong planet."

"I mean Revan's Sith Empire wasn't born out of 'let's conquer everything'," Atton said. "It was years of being exposed to death and suffering during the Mandalorian wars, building resentment against a Republic and Jedi who wouldn't stand up for us... and a little bit of a Jedi-turned-Sith-Lord who started deliberately putting us through the crucible to push us further into it."

Yeah, he was gonna wave over a server now and ask for a whiskey.

Having done that, he added, "Revan may have had big plans, but we didn't really want to conquer anything. We just wanted to make |them pay."

Edited 2025-02-27 09:04 (UTC)

"And them was everyone not you?" Cade asked.

"Them was the Jedi and the Republic that had abandoned us, at first," Atton said. "Then it just started to spiral. Especially after the Jedi knocked Revan off the board and Malak took over. But I was long gone by then."

"The second one always tend to be worse," Cade agreed.

"Malak was a karking moron," Atton said succinctly. And then, less succinctly: "But also one with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove, and we know that always goes well."

Edited 2025-02-28 09:11 (UTC)

"Definitely doesn't define both people at this table," Cade said.

Atton snorted. "I don't have anything to prove," he said, "Do you?"

"Sure you don't," Cade said. "That's why you're on a backwater without space flight."

"You think I'm here to prove something to someone?" Atton said, raising an eyebrow.

"They don't have space flight," Cade repeated.

"I don't give a single shit, Cade," Atton said, as they finally put his whiskey down. "I'm not you."

"Just the only person I know who stayed on this planet was Great Granddad and he was married and, you know, a giant war criminal."

"I'm also a giant war criminal," Atton pointed out dryly. He took a sip of his whiskey. "I spent years trying to run away from myself through space flight, and yet this part of this mudball is the first place I've been since I was sixteen where I feel like I can breathe."

Edited 2025-03-01 17:11 (UTC)

Cade was feeling pretty good about breaking the cycle of personally not being a giant war criminal. The tequila was helping.

Cade looked around at the Mexican restaurant, then gave a philosophical little shrug. "Huh. Not gonna fight you for it."

Atton shrugged. He was a little more careful with his whiskey, but it was at least helping settle him somewhat.

"Wasn't trying to make it a fight," he said. "But-- space. You don't want to know how screwed up my head got over the years." He took a small sip. "And I just kept doing things to make it worse. So now I'm here, where I have a chance to unfuck it. At least a little."

"A very little," Cade teased with a tiny smile. "Guess you found a path or whatever."

He did drugs to block out annoying Force ghosts of ancestors telling him to make better choices. He was in no place to judge.

"Living on a stupid mudball with no space flight in a tiny apartment and getting up on stage to yell all my fee-fees into a microphone at least once a week while sweaty teenagers beat each other up in the pit," Atton agreed. "Didn't see it coming either."

"Fee-fees," Cade repeated slowly. "What the kriff is that word?"

"It's a ironic way to say 'feelings' that I'm using in this context to reassert that I'm a manly man and keep this conversation from becoming a total cryfest," Atton offered.

"You're forty, don't use kid slang," Cade said, refilling his glass again, "It makes you seem even older."

"You're thirty-something, you don't get to lecture me on my language," Atton said. "Wait and see if you make it to fifty, first."

"I'm thirty something and that's how I know you sound ridiculous," Cade said. "If you have to scream about your feelings to smelly teenagers, own it with real words."

Atton rolled his eyes. "I save those for the music, asshole," he said, without heat. He picked up his glass. The whiskey was almost gone.

"Tequila?" Cade offered.

"No, thanks," Atton said. "I don't want to wake up and have to deal with you meeting my boyfriend and a major hangover."

"I'm not meeting him tonight?" Cade asked. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"Always," Atton deadpanned. "But nah. He's a bartender. Unless we clear out of here fast, he's going to be at work by the time we get back."

"And you've been banned from where he works?" Cade guessed.

"No, but it's fancy as hells and not either of our speed," Atton said. He eyed Cade. "Though I guess I can check if he's in the mood for tacos on the way there..."

"If he's not scared of me," Cade teased.

Atton snorted. "He'd like it if you didn't use death sticks in the house," he said, pulling out his phone. "But that's about it."

"Even if I share?" Cade asked, mostly not serious.

Atton's expression was serious. "Don't," he said.

Hopefully Cade would get the hint, and he wouldn't have to explain things that weren't his to share.

"More for me," Cade said with a little grin.

Atton sighed. Loudly. He leaned back in his seat. "Well, he's on his way," he said. "Better order another round of tacos."

"Because he's not getting mine," Cade agreed. "...what's his name again?"

Way to pay attention, Cade.

"Dane," Atton said dryly. "But he'll probably let you get away with calling him 'that guy' all week, so don't worry about it."

"I might mix it up and call him 'my guy' or 'hey you,'" Cade said, not bothering to deny the first part.

"Yeah, you'll be fine. But you pull that any of my other friends and you're probably getting punched in the face," Atton added. "I know you're used to that."

"I am pretty good at ducking," Cade said.

"You might need it," Atton said cheerfully, waving over another server. "You want anything besides more tacos?"

"You're the expert here. What else is good?" Cade asked.

"Can't go wrong with quesadillas," Atton said merrily. "It's 'what if tacos, but we add enough cheese to clog up all of your arteries at once'."

"Only old people worry about their arteries," Cade told him.

"You're getting up there too, you know," Atton informed him.

"Not as fast as you are," Cade said. "I eat cheese without fear."

"We'll have four quesadillas," Atton told the server, sighing, before ordering a few more tacos. "Space. Forty is going to be a rude awakening for you."

"If I get there," Cade said airily. "Is Zane--" close, Cade, "--gonna complain about his arteries too?"

"Dane," Atton said idly, but he didn't sound all that worried about it. He reached for his soda. "Probably not. He likes jumping off of mountains with a board strapped to his feet, he has weird ideas about health."

"Nah, he just sounds like an adrenaline junkie," Cade said. "Or a teenager. He's not a teenager, right?"

Atton rolled his eyes. "He's my age," he said. "Space."

"Just trying to get a mental image," Cade said, refilling his tequila again to aid in more amazing questions.

Atton groaned, settling back.

Luckily for him, it wasn't long before the door to the restaurant opened again, revealing a Chinese-American man with messy hair pulled back into a way too long ponytail.

Atton leaned back and gave him a wave. "Over here!" he called, pulling the seat beside him back a few inches.

Cade arched up an eyebrow and watched New Guy approach.

New Guy's smile was definitely a little on the doofy side. "Hey," he said, as he reached the table, and stuck his hand out. "Cade, right?"

Atton had the face of a man waiting for a snarky comment that was, apparently, not appearing in this interaction so far. He reached for his soda.

"That's me," Cade said with an easy smile. "Hi."

"Welcome to New York," Dane said, glanced down at his hand, and said, "Right, handshakes not a space people thing."

Atton was not going to overreact and smack someone or run away or anything. Just. Crossing the streams. Weird. Weird.

"No, we prefer to bow and stare at each other until it gets strange," Cade said.

"I feel like that's way more civilized passive-aggression than playing the 'who has the better handshake' game," Dane mused, and sat down in his chair. "Just-- really making it eerie and uneasy."

Atton rolled his eyes. "I ordered you some Al pastor," he said.

"Thanks."

"Who's Al Pastor?" Cade asked.

In his defense, that was a pretty galaxy far, far away name.

"Pork marinated in chilies and pineapple," Dane said, grinning. "You can grab one of mine when they get here." He eyed Atton. "You didn't get him any?"

Atton shrugged. "He talks a big game about being a big space kid more important than this little mudball," he said. "If he doesn't know how to order the good tacos..."

"He's punishing me," Cade said, nodding. "It's why I never visit."

"Jack," Dane said, raising his eyebrows.

Atton leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "What? I'm an asshole," he said. "And so is he!"

"He seems nice," Dane pointed out.

"You think everyone seems nice. Except for me!"

"Because you're an asshole," Dane said. Agreeably.

"He really is," Cade agreed, so, so, helpfully.

Atton rolled his eyes at both of them. "I don't have any friends," he complained. "Not a single one."

Dante patted him lightly on the shoulder. "You'll be okay," he said, grinning. Sort of. It was closer to an actual smile.

He looked at Cade. "You used to go to school on this mudball, right?" he said. "You ever miss it?"

"Going to school, being a teenager, or seeing this asshole more often?" Cade asked. "Because the answers are all different."

Dane checked his phone. "I have twenty minutes?" he said. "So all of the above."

"I go back to the school yearly because I have family there, but their story would take much longer than twenty minutes," Cade said as the food arrived. "I'd rather fall in lava than be a teenager again, and I only sort of miss seeing that asshole's face."

That last one was clearly teasing.

Atton gave him the finger. Lazily. "Wow, I got an actual 'sort of'," he said. "That's practically a declaration of love from this guy."

"I hope not," Dane said, as he grabbed the plate with the al pastor tacos and oriented it so it was between him and Cade. "I don't have the weird superpowers you guys do."

"Less superpowers, more 'interconnectedness with the universe', blah blah," Atton said.

"He wrote a song about it," Dane confided. "It's a lot more flowery than that."

Atton threw a tiny piece of quesadilla at him.

Cade snickered. "You wrote a song about the Force?"

"Shut up," Atton told him, which was a yes.

Cade laughed harder. "I've never been that high."

Thank you, Cade.

Atton would've grumbled and made a joke, too, but he caught the look on Dane's face. Right. Less old Atton defensiveness, more-- anything else.

He sighed.

"I write about what I care about," he said. "And Force meditation's done a lot for me over the years. If that's not your hyperspace lane, whatever."

"It's definitely not," Cade said, smirking as he reached for his drink again.

Atton shrugged. "Smirk all you want," he said. "Snark is always easier than sincerity. You don't have to put anything on the line."

Dane took a contemplative bite of his taco, clearly wondering if he should move the conversation somewhere less argument-y.

But well, taco. He was going to have to swallow that bite first.

"I have no need to scream my feelings at complete strangers, you're right," Cade said.

"Making my case for me," Atton said, and before Dane could say anything, he added, "Did I ever tell you this guy saved my life? Straight-up yanked me from the brink of death."

Dane blinked, glancing from Atton to Cade and back. "Huh. Well. That sounds hardcore."

"I am, indeed, hardcore," Cade agreed around a bite of taco.

"And because of the way that stupid Force power works, I still have his voice knocking around my head sometimes," Atton said brightly.

He swallowed.

Cade blinked. He didn't remember that his voice would still be in Atton's head. "I'm the voice of reason," he finally declared.

"This is also how I know that one day you're going to crack and I really hope you're going to do it screaming into a microphone and not exploding at a bunch of strangers," Atton said, and picked up his soda for a sip as he sat back.

Dane, with the look of a man who had been here before (if 'here' was 'wedged between Atton and someone he wanted to make a point to'), said, "He's been telling me your job is getting shot at. What's that like?"

Edited 2025-03-09 17:45 (UTC)

"Very good for cardio," Cade said dryly. "Getting shot at is the unwelcome side-effect of my job."

"So what's the actual job?"

This time, Dane managed to beat Atton to speaking. A small victory.

"Bounty hunting," Cade said airily. "A little bit of shipping between planets--"

"People and narcotics," Atton interrupted dryly.

Cade smirked. "Gotta make a living somehow."

Dane made a thoughtful noise. He reached for a taco, and took a bite. Clearly couldn't say anything because he was chewing.

"How's the business been, anyway?" Atton asked. Might as well play nice for now, he figured.

"Well, I have some Hutts trying to kill me, but that's pretty normal," Cade said.

"What are Hutts, anyway?" Dane asked. "I mean, I got 'smelly' and 'disgusting', but not much else."

"Giant slugs," Cade added, "who are mostly gangsters."

"Before you ask, no, I don't know why the giant slugs are gangsters," Atton said. "Or why they've been gangsters for literally thousands of years between me and him."

"The time thing is trippy," Dane admitted.

"I like to think of it as Hutts never learning a thing," Cade admitted.

"Maybe it's genetic," Atton suggested. "Poor long-term memory."

"That makes as much sense as anything, plus a thousand years of generational wealth," Cade said.

"Wild, dude," Dane said pensively. "I can't believe it's been a thousand years--"

"More like four thousand," Atton said helpfully.

"...And you two can understand each other fluently. What's that about?" He reached for his soda. "If I go back four thousand years, my great-great-great whatever is probably rooting around in the mud by the Pearl River."

"I've learned that it's best not to think too hard about that stuff," Cade advised.

"Starts breaking your head," Atton agreed. He eyed his quesadilla. "And your heart, maybe a little."

Cade blinked owlishly at him, then turned to Dane. "It doesn't break my heart."

"Didn't think so," Dane promised easily. "You seem pretty chill."

Atton snorted. "Try rebuilding the Jedi Order for a few years, hoping you'll change something, only to find out your universe is still going through the same shit four thousand years later."

He took a swig of his soda.

"I've solved this by never trying to restart the Jedi," Cade told Dane. "Problem fixed."

Dane's eyes darted to Atton and back. "Kind of seems like the healthier option," he admitted. "Not that I have more than two reference points here..."

"I figure if it has to keep being restarted, it might not be meant to be," Cade said, while ten generations of his family screamed at him from the great beyond.

Atton sighed. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table; the shift of his sleeve meant that part of the I will stand in the darkness and laugh with my heel on its throat tattoo was visible.

"I know," he muttered. "Okay? I know."

Dane settled a light hand on his back.

"But it lasted past you to get to great granddad, so maybe you had to do your thing so I could give up on it."

Cade philosophy, everyone.

"One of your ancestors launched a galaxy-wide war - again - and another noped out of our galaxy entirely," Atton pointed out, face still on the table.

Cade waved at Dane. "Hi. My family's a moderately big deal. It's why I didn't use my last name."

"He's told me about your great-great-grandfather," Dane said, nodding, "Though I'm still unclear what his name is beyond 'schutta'."

Atton waved a hand. "The second Cade starts talking about his family history, you're going to start feeling sorry for him," he said, "And I'm not sure any of us are prepared to deal with that."

"I am a tragic figure," Cade agreed. "An incredibly hot tragic figure."

Dane held his hands up and grinned. "No comment," he said cheerfully.

"You still traveling with friends, Cade?" Atton asked dryly.

Cade nodded. "With Jariah and Blue, yeah."

"And on a scale of 1 to 10, how tragically lonely are you actually?" Atton added dryly.

Cade smirked. "Not at all. Blue's on the ship."

"Yeah, sorry, I'm not going to feel sorry for you and your hot girlfriend," Atton told him.

"You were the one checking on my tragic loneliness, which I am not," Cade said smugly.

Manhattan Portalocity Station and Beyond, Wednesday Afternoon

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