Sometimes it really pisses me off when people think I’m stupid. I’m not stupid. I just don’t want to die. Well, I don’t want to die again.
That’s why I created Johnny Chang. That’s not who I really truly am. I’m no leader. I love chicks, and it’s cool having magic-like powers to get chicks, but I’m no pervert. Johnny Chang is, but I’m not. I wasn’t raised to be uncouth and foul-mouthed, but that’s Johnny.
Goddamn fuckin’ Camarilla. Had to go and ash Candy, and it’s not like we were doing a goddamn thing. Nothing! We weren’t shovelheads, we weren’t even Anarchs. We just weren’t Acknowledged Cammunists. And that fuckin’ Hound figured that gave him free reign to do what he wanted to us. I guess I wasn’t worth a second thought, but Candy had said she had been in California since the Gold Rush. If that was true, then fuck, she would have been worth attention. So the Hound ashed her, at least I think that's all he did to her. Used that Dread Gaze shit on me and I fucking ran like a whipped dog. I couldn’t go back to our place, I didn’t know where else to go. I had no choice but to go to the Cam just to survive. That fucking Hound did everything he could do embarrass the fuck out of me. When I finally got enough dirt on him to embarrass him in front of the Prince (for trying to make a deal with the Sabbat; it was bullshit but the Prince never knew and the evidence was too good not to be true) I knew my time in San Francisco was done and over. I also knew I could never return. Maybe now I could, since I heard some keui-jinn ashed him a few years back. But the rest just might remember me.
So I decided to head back home and become a totally new person. I’d managed to save up a bunch of money and it had been over a decade since I’d been in SoCal. Got into the porn and the paparazzi business, since it was something the old me would never do. Started getting all fashionable, like one of those faggot Toreador, to further separate the old me from the new me. Did manage to piss off some keui-jinn foot soldier when I got in his way with PF Chang’s, but so what. Fuck, I even learned to talk different so that again, the connection between the old me and the new me would be even more tenous and difficult to discover.
But sometimes, I miss being me.
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