Trying to keep secrets from Johnny was like trying to keep a Dogtown resident from SynthCoke— impossible. The man had a penchant for sniffing around your thoughts and digging up memories you'd rather keep buried. He was nosy, that was obvious. What really sparked your chrome was the way he'd burrow himself into the feelings you tried so hard to subdue.

Your spiral was apparent to him. He could feel the heavy pit of your chest but your walls were built so high that even when sharing the same nerves he couldn't know what you were thinking.

You felt depleted, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it Johnny felt it too. The way exhaustion stung beneath your eyelids and your limbs ached. And despite it all Johnny spoke to you with a veil of reverence, far unlike himself.

“V,” his lips press together in a thin line before he takes a drag from his digitalized cigarette. “You know I can tell when you're upset, can't you?”