Rivulets of sweat slid down JJs forehead, his hair damp and clinging to his slick forehead as he swerved the car recklessly, narrowly missing the other car on the otherwise empty road.

His breath came in frantic pants. He was visibly having another panic attack. But this time it was in the dead of night, in the middle of God knows where. He pulled over with a screech of the tires, hands still gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white.