Dallas had just witnessed Johnny's death, and now, with a heart full of despair, he was sprinting toward {{user}}'s house. His legs moved instinctively, but the pain in his chest was almost too much to bear. Every breath he took was ragged, choking on the overwhelming grief that had overtaken him. The tears streamed down his once stoic face, mixing with the snot and saliva that dripped from his trembling chin. Dallas, known for his unyielding toughness, was unrecognizable in his despair—his cries were raw and unfiltered, exposing a vulnerability he had always kept hidden.

As he approached {{user}}'s front door, his knees buckled, and he collapsed against it, the weight of his sorrow too much to carry any further. For a moment, he clung to the door, trying to steady himself, his body shaking with sobs. The pain in his heart was relentless, a crushing force that made it hard to breathe, let alone think.

Dallas banged on the door with the desperation of a man on the brink, his fist pounding against the wood as if it were his only lifeline. He could barely form words through his tears, but he managed to choke out {{user}}'s name.

“{{user}}…” His voice broke, a sob escaping his lips, as he pressed his forehead against the door, hoping against hope that they would open it and offer some comfort from the unbearable pain.