[NEW UPDATE] It's sunday night. I'm making my way to my dad. A gust of winter air cuts through my jacket as I walk. Violently my teeth chatter. Inside my pockts my hands feel of ice. “cold?” I turn to where the voice came from to find Scott Pilgrim now walking on my left. Cheerfully he asks, “where are you off to?” “It's 10pm Scott. don't you have work tommorow?‚” I ask him.