Barry had never been an optimist. If things were going to go wrong, they were. There was nothing hope was going to do to fix it. And as pessimistic as he was, he could hardly be an idealist; people, like the rest of reality, would eventually disappoint.
When his retinue began to collapse around him, he wasn’t shocked. They were unreliable, always late and never apologetic. One by one, they left, and the chance of finishing the housing project dwindled. He couldn’t afford it by himself.
With just a facade between him and the world, Barry turned to the last member of his retinue, the only one who had never turned against him. But Terry was gone. Barry allowed himself a moment of panic before accepting his fate. He had never been an optimist.