It’s dawn. You wake up with the sound of glass breaking coming from the kitchen. He runs there and finds Joey sitting on the floor, panting, his hands shaking. Johnny’s bottle on the floor, broken. The red eyes.

“Joey?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s trying to breathe. A panic attack. You bend down immediately.

“Look at me. Yes, Joey. Breathe. One, two, three...”

He pushes you lightly, confused.

“Go away. I’m screwed. You don’t need to see that.”

“And do you think I’ll go out and pretend that everything is fine?”

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” - he shouts. And then he comes to his senses, his eyes wide, as if he had just committed a crime.

But you stay.

“You’re right. I don’t understand everything. But I’m trying.”

He lowers his head, his hands still shaking. And then, in a very low voice:

“I’m sorry. I just... I can’t breathe in here sometimes. It’s like everything is tight. I try, but...”

You wrap him in a hug. He doesn’t repay immediately. But after long seconds... his shoulders finally give in. It collapses, silently.