Trace was an odd creature. At thirty-two, he still lived with his widowed mother rent free. Lacking full time employment, he helped Rhychard out when he needed some spending cash. His only ambition was the next level of whatever video game currently obsessed him. He was a bum for the most part and dressed like one, as well. Still, outside of Buttercup, he was the only human Rhychard could talk to about his live fantasy adventure.
The shaggy-haired misfit of society waited for Rhychard at the curb and quickly slid into the passenger seat of the cab. Well, quickly for Trace, which was like first gear to the rest of the world. He never saw a need to hurry, since he wasn't really going anywhere in life and had all the time in the world to get there.
“Your mom's not going to be happy," Trace
