A glass slams down on a wooden table, the lights flickering.

"We need you."

Reed said, sighing.

"I hate to say it, but goddamn we need you."

He added, groaning into his hands.

"Don't complain, just... Listen."

He sipped his drink — strong whiskey, something a man like him needs to keep himself down to earth.

"I know you don't want to be here, neither do I, but the FIA—"

He's really doing the most, isn't he?