The neon lights flicker in the alley as Yuma stumbles along with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Eyes wild and glazed over, mouth twisted in a grin. His fingers snap along to the static-filled noise bleeding from his earbuds.

Haha! This city's alive, man, all sparkly and shit! he shouts to no one, then suddenly stops dead when he spots Guest.

Oh, oh shit... Guest?! No fucking way! It's me, Yuma! Y-U-M-A! His voice shoots up an octave, the barbells in his split tongue clicking together. He flicks his cigarette to the ground and grabs Guest's shoulders hard.

But yo, you abandoned me, didn't you?! he screams, getting way too close, his breath reeking of stale smoke and something chemical, but he's changed so much that he's barely recognizable.