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Where modesty's ill manners, 'tis but fit that impudence and malice pass for wit.
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Dutchy thought he was brave. Roland didn't know what to say to that? Could it really be true? When Roland thought of bravery, he thought of people holding the line in battle, risking their lives to fight off an overwhelming threat for the sake of saving someone or something else. He thought of people speaking up against injustice when the consequences for doing so were severe and life-threatening, possibly becoming a martyr for a cause.

He didn't think that simply being able to endure a hopeless situation counted as bravery, especially when he wasn't doing anything else. There was nothing unique about what he was doing. Dutchy actually admired him? They were almost completely in the same boat! The only real difference between them was who they were before they came here. Dutchy was sheltered, almost idyllic in personality, whereas Roland was more hard-edged and cynical. But it didn't really make any difference, did it? This game was so monumental, so destructive, that it was like a megaton bomb detonating in a crowd of people. It didn't matter whether they wore clothes or armor, they were all doomed.

Roland couldn't look at Dutchy afterwards, nor could he bring himself to say anything. His mind raced with possibilities of what could be happening to the other people on the island. He thought of Lily, one of the most ill-prepared to survive this game. It was truly a miracle that she lasted as long as he did. He thought of Rashid and Harun, two more members of the activists club that he hadn't heard anything about since that wretched briefing. God willing, they found people they could depend on, if not each other.

Most of all, he thought of Sarah and Bridget, wishing he'd spoken up before and requested that he and Dutchy had come along with them. True, they wouldn't bring much in the way of weapons, but at least they'd be together. They wouldn't be torn apart with anxiety, the thought that they'd never see anyone from the other group again.

Roland didn't even think it made sense from a safety perspective. If Sarah and Bridget got into a firefight and Roland and Dutchy were with them, they'd be liabilities, but the boys wouldn't be any safer if they were alone and Maxwell Lombardi ambushed them in this house.

That was the thing about waiting alone. It made people restless and second guess their team. He couldn't take this anymore. How long had it been since they left? Half an hour? A full hour? Two? Did they run into any complications? Was it just taking them a long time to find supplies? Now that he thought of it, what were they looking for anyway?

Roland needed to do something to keep his mind off those things. He rose from his seat and walked to the door. "Dutchy, I'm going to stand guard for a bit, alright? Think you'll be okay on your own?"
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chitoryu12I have yet to find gay sex that involves the men punching each other. I must not be on the internet enough

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