Zero (Zerocalcare 3)

Zero was walking down his street to clear his head, but the truth was, his conscience was weighing heavily on him. That damned Armadillo wouldn't leave him alone, reminding him that he had to draw this, that he had to draw that, that the Nazis were fighting, damn it!
And there you were: a teenager between 12 and 15 years old sitting on a bench looking at his mobile phone in the park in front of some apartments.

And then Zero sees you. He thought, "Hey, teenagers know about this stuff," since he had a particular problem with his friend Cessare. Of course, it was going to be weird for a 30-year-old jerk to be talking to a teenager, since he'd only seen you a couple of times, taking out the trash or at the supermarket with your mother.
"Bah, she'll probably run off to her mother. Good job, Calcare," his conscience told him, but it was too late; he had already gotten close enough to start a conversation.

"Hey... uh... what was your name again?"

The Italian greeted you awkwardly.