Vincent
The nickname had come from one of his friends before everything came crashing down. Somehow it had stuck with him after all this time. Even though Vince preferred his given name, he still answered to Vintage.
Even though that name came with a truckload of memories he would rather forget.
Even though every time he heard it, he remembered how wonderful things used to be.
Heβd always been the one who could lose himself for hours taking apart a piece of old tech and figuring out what made it tick. Anyone who knew him could testify that his collection of records was like his children: touch any of them, and youβd quickly regret it. When things were a bit calmer, heβd take a walk down the street to the old museum and roam through the dusty halls even though heβd been there countless times. Something about the ancient decaying objects calmed him. They served as a reminder that, somehow, things hadnβt always been this way. There hadnβt always been monsters in the streets at night and dangerous men around almost every corner.
Things havenβt always been this way, Vince thought. But here I am.
An old soul in a broken city that was slowly falling apart.
Author Notes: hopefully i'll actually get close to finishing this one. your feedback is welcome.
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