Ace returns to the coffee shop as Barry gives a cup of joe to a customer. As they walk away, Barry glares at Ace, chewing them out, "Ace you can't just run off like that."

"I'm sorry," Ace began to apologize, "I know running the shop alone is hard but I panicked and just-"

"You know that's not what I care about I actually like working here," Barry retorts sternly, "I'm talking about how this town has gone strait to Hell. Cultists, vigilantes like Purity and Snow."

"Who?" Ace inquires, unfamiliar with that name, "Snow?"

"Yeah some other guy who strikes during the early snowfalls this year," Barry explains, "It's like the sow follows him it's creepy as fuck, but that's my point. We can't be out and about right now alone. Neither of us can. If either of us need to go somewhere we should go with someone else. That was a two dollar beverage and your life is worth far more than that!"

"Yeah it's worth three dollars!" Ace jokes, laughing to hide the fact they believes it to an extent.

"Ace I'm being serious!" Barry retorts, angered that Ace is speaking so poorly of themselves, seeing through the façade.

"Fine," Ace sighs, "But I'm OK, so let's just go home. It's about time to close up anyways."

"Fine," Barry sighs, "Let's go before night falls."

The two exit the coffee shop and walk down the streets under the sun set. The sky is lit ablaze in a dazzling array of orange, pink, and yellow. As they walk Barry explains, "You are worth a lot."

"Huh?" Ace inquires.

"I mean everyone is all life has inherit worth," Barry elaborates, "But you have value to me. You're a good friend to me and I am sure other people care about you too."

"My mom didn't."

"I don't know a ton about that but with all due respect, your mom was a bitch. Some parents are just scum, plain and simple. Sometimes you need to reject them and prove your worth. Not to them, but yourself. Even though you have nothing to prove since your life being valuable is the default state. If your mom lied about that, said you  had to earn your worth, everything else she said was probably lies too."

"I guess," Ace sighed as they turned down the street towards their home, "I'll see you tomorrow."

'Have a good one," Barry replies.

Ace entered their home, a humble apartment on the third floor of a complex. The place is dimly lit by the setting sun. They sits on the old, worn leather chair in front of the T.V., as if it is asking them why they cannot accept Barry's advice.  They sigh, "Don't look at me like that..." and kill the reflection by turning on the news, making noise, any noise, to block out the sense of self loathing. Unable to fight it and heal, they choose to ignore it instead in a misguided hope it will go away. et they must address it, sooner the better. 

As they sigh, they pick up on a name from the news anchor that catches their curiosity, "And in other news Snow has struck again..."