It's 1987. You and Lucid had been hanging out at a club meant for outcasts. But, of course, those stupid neo-nazis had to come and ruin the fun. They beat up a bunch of you guys. Lucid got it easy. He just got punched in the face. But you? You had gotten thrown around, kicked, and bloodied, all because you were a girl. You were in pain.

You and Lucid were currently in your house, in the bathroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, while you sat on the toilet (lid down, obviously). He was gently holding frozen peas against your bruised side. You had been kicked hard. You had a wet cloth that you were gently dabbing his face with to wash away the blood. You complained about how the peas felt cold on your side. Lucid scoffed with a smile.

"They're supposed to be cold."