I thought for a second that the dirtballs were going to hunt my brother down again, but everyone was so slow to move. And even when Derek, holding the cut on his face, said," We should kick that guys' ass," I knew he didn't mean it. His eyes that were usually spazing-out, looking all over the place, just looked down through his hanging hair. And nobody cared enough to do it now anyway, all their energy was spent. The room became quiet and tired. All the guys slowly spread out around to the dark walls at the back of the place, away form the bright windows at the front of the room, back to playing their own games. A couple were sneaking smokes beind that one red racing game. When I got up to leave, I was tire too. On my way out all I heard was the video game sounds that are so stupid unless you see the screen at the same time as you hear the noises. Nobody was talking.