Verse stood before an open window, staring at the flames engulfing the city, his home. The chaos outside was palpable, but he remained unshaken, as if he had seen it all before. Five Blind, laying down, could only muster the words, "You ever get tired of being different?" It was a question that had been weighing on Five Blind's mind, but he couldn't have anticipated the response he received.

Verse didn't hesitate to answer. He looked at Five Blind, almost with pity, and said, "Being different is all I've ever known. I don't know how to be anyone else." Five Blind blinked at his words, perplexed. How could someone be so content with being different, especially in a world that seemed to shun those who didn't fit in?

As the flames outside grew higher, Five Blind gaze at Verse for some kind of comfort. But instead of finding solace, Five Blind embraced his heavy tears. The odd man he had become, crying. The sound of Five Blind tears hit Verse like a ton of bricks, and he couldn't bear the heaviness of the man tears. But Verse, always the provocateur, managed to gag in disgust and say, "Oh don't cry now, you'll ruin the fun part."