DROP ELEVEN
They took Hector’s truck and got to the Cyberpink stadium. The streets were full of incoming people, buses emptied entire rows of fans, cars parked everywhere and anywhere.
Noise, electronic music, hot dog stands and loukoumades stands, people yelling, excited.
“I never understood this whole being a sports fan thing,” Hector admitted, waving around.
Tony bought a handful of soft drinks. “Oh, you’re missing out. Didn’t your father bring you to any games?”
“My father taught me how to make armour.”
“Sounds exciting. Then again, it’s a living, right? Let’s go over there, gate C, that’s our seats.”
Hector followed in the wake of the overweight man as he pushed through the crowd. He never liked crowds, made him feel uneasy. Unsafe. He could make do with at least two of his arm
