Five rolled out of the bed, his feet hitting the cold wooden floor. He picked up his button-up shirt off the armchair in the corner and slid it on as he walked over to Anastasia's side of the bed. She was long gone by then. Five heaved a sigh, seeing the pearl earrings she left on the side table. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his head pounded, trying to squeeze away the memory of last night. He didn't want to remember his scream, his failure to love.
Five finished getting dressed before putting the earrings in his pocket, made his way into the hallway, and jogged down the main staircase on a mission for the morning. He strolled quickly through the lobby to the valet parking. His eyes got caught on a motorcycle. He blinked past the valet boy and slid the keys off the hook. Five turned the keys in the motorcycle's ignition and stepped on the petals, speeding away from the hotel.
Pogo's home was located in a secluded part of a forest. North of the city and protected by the solitude of the rural upstate air. It didn't take long to find the old ape's address despite being off the grid. The wind blowing through Five's dark hair felt almost nostalgic. Just him and the road. Nobody else. Solitude.
Lounging in front of Pogo's trailer was a bigger woman smoking a cigarette. Five parked the motorcycle in front of the property and got off the bike, sticking his hands in his pockets. The woman stood up in defense.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked, taking the cigarette out of her mouth.
"I need a word with Pogo," Five responded flatly. He glanced around at his surroundings. The set-up reminded him of the home he made for Anastasia and himself in the apocalypse, except for the fully grown trees.
"Ain't no Pogo here, pumpkin," the woman said. Five pursed his lips and started towards the trailer. The woman put a firm hand on his shoulder. "So, I suggest you get your ass off my property before I call a truant officer."
"It's okay, Tammy. Let the boy in." Pogo's voice called from inside the trailer.
Five smirked at the woman and continued into the home. As he stepped up the stairs, Five heard the cocking of a pistol. His heart skipped a beat as he faced the chimpanzee.
"You're either stupid or desperate," Pogo said, indicating to Five to sit across from him. "Which is it?"
"You tell me," Five replied. He pulled his old tattooed skin out of his coat pocket and placed it on the table, making a slapping noise on the vinyl table.
Pogo leaned closer to get a better look at it. "That looks like my work, but I haven't done that tattoo."
"Not yet, you haven't. I cut it off my 100-year-old self," Five explained before Pogo cut in.
