"Why don't you go ahead and tell us your story, Christopher?"
"Okay..." The previous storyteller, Jonathon, had just finished explaining why he was in Rehab. Apparently, he was a major Sex Addict who kept getting various Sexually Transmitted Diseases through his fragrant use of Prostitutes (who happened to be in-line with Don Parlem, but that's neither here nor there). Chris was a Blond Haired and ragged man, his rough-shaven face constantly gathering oo's and ah's. Don't mistake it, as rough-on-the-edges he was, he was constantly being oogled and, well, frankly objectified by the women in his life, whether they be strangers, family, friends, or what-have-you. It was a common occurrence for Chris to gain and lose friends simply because he wasn't romantically interested in them.
Anyway, what Chris and John have in-common? A wife. Jonathon's wife signed him up for Rehab immediately after she caught Chlamydia, especially since their son was constantly being used as leverage in their fights. Jonathon wanted a break, Stephanie (his wife) wanted him to get some "fucking help", as she phrased it, and so here he was. Jonathon was quite unlike Chris... His hair was fashioned in a pompadour style and his face (as well as skin) was constantly shiny and clean. He needed it this way to catch the ladies (unlike Chris), as he was quite rough to look at without the massive care to his natural glamour.
Chris and Jonathon were never really friends, more acquaintances really, and so as Jonathon made dorky and childish faces to Chris before he started up his story, Chris couldn't help but chuckle before he began, causing the Rehabilitation Therapist to give a small sneer of disapproval, then gesture for him to "get a move on", as it were.
"My name is Christopher Hedgings, though everyone calls me Chris." He paused, waiting for the familiar-
"Hi Chris." Unison speech from everyone who ever goes to or has gone to an Anonymous or Rehab program, where everyone constantly spouts your name, even if you might've been here a week ago (more prominently in Jonathon's case).
"I'm here because I'm addicted to Gambling. In-specific, I gambled my house away. When I was younger, I took up Skilled Labor, Carpentry in-specific, and so I was able to build my own house from scratch." As he finished his sentence, he took a deep drink of water, parched and sweating from his crippling anxiety to public speech, though with proper hydration, this quickly faded, as he was ready to properly "face the music".
"However, I gambled away half my paycheck every payday. The more I got into it, the more I just..." He shudders, then closes his eyes with small tears having formed and glazed his eyes, before sighing in regret. "I craved the thrill. Eventually, my house, which was appraised to be worth approximately a million pounds." Hearing this, everyone (and I do mean everyone) gasped! To have property worth a million dollars would mean one had to be skilled, a benefactor, or both, let alone in the town of Schlepping, United Kingdom.
Some of the women, previously entranced by Chris' chaotically attractive features, were already fawning over his possible bank balance, alongside the "pretty boy" glamour.
Chris promptly cleared his throat, having been interrupted by these, frankly, shameless women, then continued. "Eventually, my house was gambled off to pay my debts. Since then, I've been homeless. I can't get hired due to multiple notes from my employer spoken out due to my... Addiction." He sighs, then heads off the podium, needless clapping and applause given for his "bravery".
-Yeah, right.- Chris thought to himself. If it was brave to simply speak about the wrongs one did, then wouldn't all criminals be absolved for needless pledging guilty? He rolled his eyes at the thought. Bravery was not speaking about one's truths, it was fighting in the face of fear. Chris refused to listen to any of the stories after that, especially since-
"Hey there, Chris was it? I'm Samantha. Wanna get a drink later?" A dyed redhead spoke to him, her natural color was likely brown by the fading hairs atop her head, though Chris was disgusted. Samantha Long had been put here by her *husband* due to being a chronic alcoholic. In-specific, she had been put here due to her liver failures, which had been becoming more and more frequent. There was nothing attractive about this request in the slightest, let alone that she was asking him, a married man, as a married woman.
After that, Chris found himself leaving without a second thought. The desk jockey in the lobby gave him back his keys as well as a chip for having successfully stayed for over a week, which was actually quite an achievement for the more chronic addicts such as him.
Once he reached the outdoors, he took a breath of fresh air, finally happy to have escaped the constantly sanitized airs of the Rehabilitation Facility, as they wanted to avoid anyone being triggered by a certain fragrance.
Having exited the building, he couldn't help but notice two individuals hanging out on West Saint's Street, 5541 in-specific...
...
+System, how the hell do I get back into Purgatory?+
-Answer: System cannot calculate this request at this time. Request will be pending for the next fifteen minutes. Please wait.-
For once, the system had no answer, and so bored out of his mind, George parked his car just off the road, nearby the outstretching plains, got out, and sat under the Street Sign. As he looked around, he couldn't help but notice a gruff-looking Blonde man staring back at him, and a strange reaction seemingly clicked into place...
Simultaneously, he and this man heard an announcement in their very minds, and were shocked to say the least...
-ALERT! Host has made contact with a "Brother" Inhabitant. Host is recommended to make further contact with target due to synchrony of Demon Lords "Maeon" and "Levi Alveister the Tenth".-