#opticallyenhanced o1

     SOMETHING familiar as his attire is hard to miss. A bold contrast to the fashion of other’s, and I’ll be damned if I don’t admit to myself that the way he walks and looks reminds me of father. It leaves such a heavy feeling of dread and pain that I struggle to find my words, even after stopping him on his way to who knows where.

     After seconds of what I assumed looked like such awkward gawking, a noise rises from my throat, barely peaking out. It’s hard to speak, but I eventually find the right words to say.

❝Is the public transport so UNRELIABLE?❞ Reinhardt mutters and scratches at his scalp. He's been waiting for the bus for far too long —- being unable to afford a taxi.

A part of her wanted to believe it was nothing more than another rare case of paranoia kicking in, or just the overwhelming despair of being helpless affecting her usually composed mind. Perfection was her aim, yet she's stumbling now with not ever knowing what's going on with her. Scientists, were they not? How could she trust such a thing? Their costumes didn't even exist in the usual store she shops in. Were they perhaps dressing up since it's Halloween? If so, this is too much for a frank now, no?

Not to mention, this man before her was surrounded by an aura she knows so damn well.