"Give me the directions and I'll get there a lot damn faster, Pat," growled the gruff voice, footsteps stifled by the fog resting in the atmosphere.
"If you'd paid 'tention in the first place, you wouldn't be in this mess, now would ya? I should hang up on your ass right now and leave you out there--"
"You do that and I'll find a way there and beat your face in, you ass. Wait, hold up..."
"If you put me on hold again--"
"Hey, excuse me!" the male called, walking over to the shadowy figure on the bench. It turned out to be a woman half asleep, bundled up in scarves and a thick fleece coat. "Sorry, ma'am, di'n't mean to wake ya... But I'm kinda lost. I haven't been down here in a few years, and it's foggy, and a lot's changed... Would you mind pointing me to Andesia?"
The female seemed to be in her mid-forties with blonde hair that was likely graying already. Her face seemed aged much beyond her years. As she stared at him, though, he noted the slight change from her groggy expression to one resembling fear. "I-I ain't got no money, sir. Yous gon' have to go som'ere' else, I ain't got nothin'."
Furrowing his brows, the male looked over her again. She looked like she was living on the streets.
"...I just want directions, ma'am, to a club. Andesia?"
She still seemed slightly petrified by his presence, so as soon as she pointed in the direction, he walked off, sighing a bit and holding the phone up to his ear. "Pat, you have some crazy ass people living around here, you know that?" As he glanced back, he realized the woman had disappeared. "Seems like everyone around here is either too over the fucking top, like you, or little hermits who try to avoid everything having to do with other people. It's ridiculous!"
"Please, you used to be just like this. Stop saying things like it's all my fault, or that this is my city. It's ours, Robin. You're living here now. So get used to it, alright?"
"I was forced to come here. I don't want this to be my city. It's insulting to even think of."
"Wow, who's the ass now?"
"Sorry," Robin muttered, kicking a rock as he walked, his eyes on the ground rather than his immediate surroundings. "What's this place look like again?"
"Pink, flashing neon sign. Hard to miss."
"Alright. Is it any good so far?"
"Rob, I come here every other weekend. It's fucking great."
"You know all their names yet?" asked the shaggy-haired male as he blew a few of the blonde strands away from his face. "If you go so often, you must know their names."
A chuckle at the other end confirmed his suspicions and Robin laughed.
"Hey! Hey, stop! Please, wait!" a muffled voice called out from behind and Robin stopped, turning around to see who called out to him. A large man with dark skin stumbled up, seemingly out of breath. "C-c-call th-the police! Sh-she's b-back!"
"...Who the fuck are you talking about?"
"Robin, what's up?"
"JUST CALL THE POLICE, DAMMIT!"
"I'm gonna call you back, Pat..." Hanging up, Robin slanted his lips. "What's going on?" he muttered as he pressed, 'end' on his phone and dialed emergency services.