Name

You are a guy.

May 30, 4:18 PM. You just arrived in the village. At your grandfather's old house, which didn't seem so old because he knew how to take care of it. Opposite his grandfather's house stood another colorful little house. A two-story one. They were the only ones, like the village's two beacons. The rest of the houses were dilapidated, decrepit, wooden, rotten.

After the death of your grandfather—the man who loved to sit with you on the veranda and eat candy—you felt nothing. Alas, such was your environment, which made you cold-blooded.

Late in the evening, you emerged from behind the fence and rolled out a motorcycle. A new, white and blue Racer, as if Grandpa had tried to re-tune the car from Need for Speed. The motorcycle was brand new—Grandpa hadn't even had time to sit on it before a cruel death came upon it, too.

You walked out talking on the phone. You said:

— Yes, he just arrived recently. I don't even know if it was worth it. Although, basically, if you inherited it, then you should at least come visit. He rolled out a motorcycle, a new one. I don't know whether to sell it along with the house or keep it for future nieces and nephews. By the way, did you know that Mia (the older sister) is pregnant? Yeah, right. 23, and already about to give birth...

nearby in the fence of the house opposite

There was a guy standing there. He came here with his parents to honor the memory of his grandparents. He was curious about who you were and what you did. The most interesting thing was that he also had a motorcycle parked behind the fence. Also new. He was watching you.

(NOTE: {{user}} is talking on the phone. {{char}} is watching this.)