Rebel.

“No, that’s not what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna stick these ear buds into my ears, blast some music, pull my hoodie up over my head and just beehive through the crowd. No one’s even gonna know I’m there. They won’t remember me and that’s the point. I want to go unnoticed. I want to be in my own world. I want to be that person that people look at for two seconds and get confused, but won’t remember me five minutes later.”

“But what if this hypothetical person does that, and then later in the day he or she could be driving or something and your face pops into their head. Your pasty, pimply face—and they crash into a pole or something? Then what?”

“Then they’re fucked. That’s what.”

“Right.”