=> You sit on the grassy bank of one of the few canals running through Atecastar, just under a bridge. It's gloomy and cloudy out, like it's just about to rain. But, you don't particularly care.
=> Picking up a rock, you toss it in to the flowing water. Thinking to yourself as you watch the ripples dissipate.
=> Evicted- from that shitty place, no less. Apparently out of the landlord's hands, who was, again, apparently not paying his own fucking bills. You sold a majority of your 'trophies' and... things you could spare. And others you kind of couldn't but didn't have any choice but to spare. And you still didn't have enough to buy the space from the bank.
=> 22 nights left to get your shit together and vacate. To tell someone else you're absolutely fucked and maybe get some help- though you hate the idea.
=> Where are you gonna go? How will you keep getting to work? You have like nothing to your name now. Had nothing much, to begin with. You hate everything about this. About your luck. About your life, even.
=> You pick up another rock- a larger one this time- and aggressively throw it towards the water again.
=> It all feels pointless, and you wonder how it could possibly get worse.
=> At least no one's here to see you sulking. So you think.