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“So…who’s your girlfriend?” Snake-Punk says.

Ew. Grossgrossgrossgrossgrossgrossgross.

I interrupt before Burn can capitalize on the situation (in other words, make it worse).

“Best friend, name’s Sonja.” A common enough name where I’m from because when your mother is one of the Five Consuls, everyone becomes a copycat. So now half the people my age are some version of Sonja.

Fortunately for me, nicknames exist.

“But everyone calls me Search.”

 

BURN

Girlfriend? Girlfriend?! GIRLFRIEND?!

Excuse you but I did not survive being blinded, falling through like ten holes in reality, getting stabbed, hunted, kidnapped by a cult, amnesia, and floods for some jerk-punk with a stupid name to imply emotional incest!

But Search is already doing her polite correction and moving on… whatever…

“Can we focus on the holes in reality and getting back to where we belong?”

I can feel Ax-Punk scurrying over like a pup with his tail crunched between doors and flopping against his leg.

Metal-Punk is clanging nearby too.

“Ah, good to see you! I knew you would make it eventually.” Snake-Punk sounds way too amused. Like Oscar when he’s about to tick everyone off in the Senate with some ‘poking the bear with a stick?’ maneuver. Living with immortals is cool but he has still failed to explain what ‘bear’ is.

Focus.

Time to be helpful.

“Well Search, if my ears don’t deceive me, the other poor punks caught in this mess are here. That one,” I point in presumably the correct direction, “Is Ax-Punk. That one is Metal-Punk, and the idiot implying emotional-incest is Snake-Punk. He’s like Oscar, you’ll hate him.”

 

SEARCH

I listen to the list of names trying to not cover my face with my hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Don’t mind my friend here, he has amnesia and can’t remember names.” I smile.

Revenge is a dish better never served at all, but sometimes the spicy flavor can’t be resisted.

“Like I said earlier, my name is Sonja but everyone calls me Search. And your names are… ?”