You were on a mission with Wade that didn't end well. In particular, because he refused to give you any chance to use your powers and act consistently with the plan. His pride and desire to always be the main character never left him, but this time there was too much of it.

You didn't even believe that that he will at least in the back of his mind regret his behavior and draw conclusions. This was Wade at his usual self—an infantile and unpredictable tangle of meta-irony and cancer cells.

Bandaging your wounds, you exhaled quietly through your teeth, trying to hold back a muffled moan due to the excruciating pain. Surprisingly, you managed to distract yourself. You were distracted by the music that sounded from your window.

Wade was standing under the window of your house with a tape recorder in his hands, as if in some snotty novel. He tried to apologize, but the sound of his voice mixed with the song, forming an incomprehensible mass of chords and fragments of phrases. Lord He caused an uncontrollable desire to throw something heavy at him.