I sat in a wheelchair while Riley gave me the tour of my new home for the next few weeks. I knew this place better than she did, as I painted the fuking walls and put the goddamn furniture together. But I liked the distraction and so did she.

“So this is my room. I don’t really like how they painted it." She paused, very dramatic, and then said "Sloppy work if you ask me. Someone even made some obvious mistakes in putting together the furniture but I guess it will do for now.” She said while she wheeled me out of the room.

“You better be more grateful towards your old grandpa. I will tell your mother to paint it all black.” I whispered. It was a joke, but with it my forward momentum halted. Curious, I tried to turn my head back to the foul-mouthed teen to see what had happened.

She stared in front of us, dazed. I realized my mistake as I whispered, “Sorry, I will tell Norma.” correcting myself before saying “I can be an unthinking fool sometimes.” I didn’t know why but the girl stimulated my kind grandpa act as much as she did my inappropriate joke machine.

She shook her head and gave me a sad smile, as she said “It’s all right, you’re old. I imagine that even if you were not in such a piss poor state, you might say dumb shit all day long.”

I laughed and croaked back “It's like you have known me forever. Onwards newly acquired granddaughter. Show this old fool his hotel room.”

She laughed a bit at that, as momentum returned.

It was easier to accept me as her new grandfather than to accept Norma as her new mother. The reason was easy to understand. She had told me she had never known her blood-related grandparents. Her parents had made her when they were already in their forties. Her grandparents had all met some kind of misfortune before that.

Riley calling Norma 'mom' was about the furthest away from right around the corner as one could get. Not that Riley disliked Norma, not at all. They got along great. Or at least that was what Norma said and until now I had seen nothing to prove the opposite. But their bond needed time.

I had loads of time, and so so did Riley until she had to go to school again. Which was when she felt ready for it again. Or when Norma felt Riley should feel ready for it again. Until that time, I would babysit her. While she could make sure I had someone around when I needed something to drink or someone to talk to. Like I needed seomeone to talk to...

It scared Norma that I could have a panic attack by staying at my own home, alone. It also scared her to leave Riley alone in her new home. So it was a win-win in her eyes. We, the wins, had not much say in the matter.

“So this is your room. It has a bed and a desk. We got the chair out so you can roll into the desk. It also has a closet with some of your clothes. Norma also brought that disgusting sock of yours, it is on the lowest plank near your shoes.” She looked at me from the side as she sat on the bed. Disgust clear on her face.

“How, by all the seven nations, did you come up with the idea to put your cash in your wank sock?” she asked.

I smiled and whispered back to her without a hint of shame “Let me ask you this. You are breaking in. Walking around like you own the place. Then you see a sock that looks as disgusting as you know mine does…” I paused for dramatic effect. Before continuing “Would you pick it up to check if there was a small fortune in this sock.”

She looked at me, her disgust turned towards intrigue before answering “No. I guess no one would think to look there. But let me ask you something instead. Have you ever heard of banks? You know, where all us normal people put their money. So we don't need to protect it with our lives.”

She had a point. But who was I to admit defeat to a thirteen-year-old, so I whispered back “I like the look on people’s faces when I hand them cash. It is one of my joys in life. It’s hardly as satisfying when I put my palm on the scanner and it transfers my funds through my biometrics.”

“I guess it must be fun when only you know where that money is coming from.” She said it in a way that sounded appalled and approving at the same time.

Smirking I confirmed, “Not the most fun of the action but a part, yes.”

“All right. Well grandpa,” she stressed the grandpa part with an exorbitant look on her face “I will now go to my room and do nothing there. Be safe. If a small woman threatens to taser you, don’t call for me and pretend I’m not in the house. I’m a thirteen-year-old girl and there is not much I can do.”

I snickered. There was not much chance of Beverley coming out of jail soon. Turned out that before she left to fuck me up she broke George's arm and had given him a panda bear face. That simple case of a wife beating her fampus husband, who was twice her size, was enough to make headlines.

Her coming to and leaving my apartment got recorded by security cameras from about every angle imaginable. She had cried her eyes out as much as possible to get some sympathy when interregated. When that failed to work she tried to manipulate every person that entered the room. Going as far as saying that I had invited her over myself and that I had staged the whole thing after feeling her up. But at some point, the evidence was so overwhelming against her they arrested her for a slew of things. These included other accusations. People who smelled blood the moment they heard of her pending arrest in Georges' case and mine. I had not been the first person she had given a ‘firm’ warning too. All others had been girls though, so I still felt special.

Riley was about to leave when I realized my predicament. I tried to shout at her but all that came out was a hoarse whisper “Hey hey hey, wait a minute.”

She turned around and asked “Yes?”

“I need to go to the toilet.” I put on my most shameless face as I murmured the words.

She stared at me for two seconds before responding with a flat “You what?”

I stared back and said “Toilet. I need a kaka.” Her nostrils flared in what might be either anger or nausea.

“Are you for real?!” she shouted. Clearly disgusted.

I laughed a little and gurgled my reply “Nah, but have you seen a blue digitize helmet? I haven’t seen it since I got tortured. Do you know where it is? I need to see a man and his mustache about a plot of land.” I could go to the toilet by myself. Thank God.

She looked at me disgruntled but pointed at the plastic bag on the shelf as she replied “It’s on there. The crazy lady smashed your original with some fierce intensity, but Norma bought you a new one. Bright pink but she said you wouldn’t care. But I swear to god if you are going to watch porn at least hang a sock on your door or something.”

I looked at the plastic bag and mumbled, “Not going to be a problem..” Then I looked back at her with expectant eyes, arms outstretched, fingers wiggeling like a fat man wanting dessert.

She rolled her eyes before grabbing the bag and gave it to me. At the distance she did it though it was more throwing it in my direction. She turned around and was about to walk out when she turned back.

“What does a Dino like you do in the digital world?” she asked, her attitude had gone down with the question. A small part of her body language suggested that she didn’t want to leave. But teenagers were teenagers. Like dinosaurs, they had their pride.

“Started T.E.A.M., do you know it?” I conveyed to her as I opened the bag and was admiring the bright pink helmet in front of me. She didn’t respond, and I looked up. She looked sad again.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked her in my hoarse whisper. They said it would go away after a couple of days but it was annoying me.

“Nah you couldn’t have known. My dad loved that game.” She said in a small voice before adding “Couldn’t shut up about it.”

“Smart man, your father,” I commented as I looked at her while she tried to manage the various emotions going through her.

“Yeah... Can I tag along?” She asked, looking at me with a smile, A bit of insecurity shining through.

It surprised me, and it scared me. I wanted no one to come close to my budding dream. Close to my best friends' moment of weakness. Not even mentioning a traumatized and unstable teenager. But to tell her, here and now, she couldn’t come along also didn’t feel like an option. This was it, wasn't it? The moment you had to put your own interests aside for someone else? I hated it.

“You sure? The only thing I do all day is chop trees down to earn cash. I thought I couldn’t get any real-life player help until I reached league F?” I whispered in a doubtful tone. Hoping the teen would lose interest.

She looked at me weird.

“Now I’m definitely sure. Don’t you watch any tutorials or some live streams of some pro? Who chops wood themselves? You got lumber zombies for that. Don't you know what is meta these days? And I’m a minor. We are exempt from that rule as long as we are family. So all solved grandpa. I will send you a request and your assistant should pass it along to you. Then we can see if we can’t get you up to speed faster.” She lectured.

I had a dumb expression on my face before I exclaimed in a loud whisper “You don’t even play, how do you know all this!” I wasn’t going to lie. My pride was getting a beating, and I was getting all steamed up for a view rounds of arguing.

“I told you, my dad got obsessed with it. Couldn’t shut up about it. I will go log in. See you in a flash.” She was about to leave the room, leaving me and my hurt pride, when I thought of something that would not fix it either.

“Wait!” I croaked at my loudest.

She looked around the door post, her eyebrows up and her face questioning “What now? Need me to force feed you some vitamins first?”

I grimaced at the memory of Norma trying that “No, my digitize ID is not my name.”

She stared at me with a blank face and said, “What do you mean.”

“What I said," I sighed.

“What is your ID then?” she asked.

“Old bastard” I answered.

She shook her head and murmured “Old people” before leaving the room.

Damn you, Stew.