Heartkiller

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

He was back in therapy, and he really didn’t want to be there. Ville had trudged along to the session because he knew that he had to in order to appease people, particularly Seppo, but he didn’t want to be there. The idea of telling an absolute stranger his entire history with the love of his life wasn’t appealing whatsoever. Dr. Ashbury had a notepad on her lap and a pen in hand to scribble notes at what he was saying. She used it to track a patient’s progress, but it only served to unnerve him, making him feel like a laboratory rat under observation. He wasn’t an experiment; he was a person. He didn’t need therapy; he needed Avery. The only reason Ville was even mildly cordial with the situation was because of the promise that the therapist had made: reliving the memorable moments could possibly strike a match that would help him recall his last moments with Avery. That's what was getting him through this.

"So, how are you doing?" Dr. Ashbury asked.

"As well as I can do, considering the circumstances." Ville replied.

He sat in the same plush chair as he had the first time he came into the office. His hair was tucked into a beanie, and his pale skin contrasted against the dark circles around his eyes; he hadn’t slept well for the past week. It was an unusual occurrence; he was used to sleeping poorly while on tour. The problem was that now, he wasn’t touring. Now, he was at home alone and grieving and unable to sleep. As he sat in front of the therapist, Ville kept his hands intertwined and resting at the base of his knee. He looked drained, much as he felt. His green eyes lost their spark and looked empty and lifeless. His lips were colorless, blending with the rest of his skin. Ville looked like a ghost.

"You look much worse than the first time we spoke. You have really bad circles under your eyes. What’s wrong? Are you not sleeping well?" she questioned.

"It must be the lighting that’s deceiving you," he said pessimistically. He sighed. "No, I’m not really sleeping. I was okay for the first few days after the accident, but lately I have only been laying awake in bed all night long.”

“Did something happen recently to make things worse?”

“Mm.” he shrugged. “It could be because the funeral was held this past weekend, and she was buried. It was an open casket, so I got to see her for one last time.”

"Huh. And what bothers you about the funeral?"

"I suppose it helped to acknowledge the fact..." Ville trailed off, not wanting to say aloud that she was dead. "It really made me confront the idea of her passing, and I think it helped me allow the news to sink in. It no longer felt like a dream. They had dolled her up really nicely since, you know, since everyone would see her. Ave looked peaceful, and it was comforting to know that she wasn’t in any pain. I mean, that was all fine, but I--I don’t know."

“What is it?”

“Maybe it was better that I thought all of this wasn’t true. Perhaps I would have been better off under the false belief that this was a dream because… seeing her there, laying in a casket--it just… her body was lifeless and cold and still. That’s the image that’s been engraved in my memory. That’s how I’m going to remember her forever. Whenever I close my eyes, I can only see her laying in a wooden box,” he snarled.

"What’s bothering you, exactly?” Dr. Ashbury insisted.

“What’s bothering me is that this wasn’t supposed to happen to her!” Ville yelled, lurching forward in his seat.

Jenna Ashbury waited to let him simmer down. His blood was boiling with anger and tension, and his tired eyes bulged wide open as he glared. Ville looked down at his hands, which were balled up into tight balls and rested on his thigh. His knuckles had turned white from the pressure with which he held his fist together, and he could feel his heart racing. He exhaled and unclenched his hands to relax himself. He needed to redirect his anger because no matter how much he disliked the therapist, he couldn’t yell at her like this; she wasn’t the one to blame. Ville slouched in his seat again and took a deep breath before continuing. His voice was softer now.

“She did everything in her power to make everybody around her happy, and she sacrificed a lot. Ave… you know, Ave could have been selfish, but she wasn’t. After the way she grew up, she could have just as easily been some spoiled, selfish rich snob, but she wasn’t like that. She worked her way up the corporate ladder on her own so that she felt like she actually earned it. And then once she got there, she spent forty, fifty, sixty hours a week at work making sure that she was serving her clients as best as she could. Avery didn’t need to do that. She didn’t need to sacrifice her time and energy beyond what was required. This is the thanks she gets? Being put six feet under when she hasn’t even lived half of her life yet?”

She watched his mood turn so rapidly; one second he was angry, the next he was remorseful, but it wasn’t long before he was livid again. He was frustrated by the events, sure, but the therapist sensed that there was more. There was something about this that wasn’t quite right. Ville could have been upset that his wife’s strong work ethic had earned her nothing but an early death, but there seemed to be something else underneath the layers. Something personal.

“What else did she sacrifice?” she blurted out.

It caught him off guard, and he looked up to meet her gaze. “Hmm?”

“You said she could have been selfish, but that she wasn’t and that she sacrificed a lot. What did she sacrifice for you?”

His mouth fell agape, and he was surprised at the conclusion she had reached. He quickly recovered to answer her question.

“No-nothing. No, she didn’t sacrifice anything for me.” He paused to clarify. “It was more of a decision she made. We had a difference of opinion, and she, um, she changed her mind for me, even though she wasn’t necessarily ready to do so. Not a sacrifice, per se, but a decision.”

“A decision about what?”

Ville sighed and kept his voice low, “I’ve… you know, I’ve gone through quite a lot this past week, and I’d rather not relive the moment in question. I’ll, um, we can talk about it later perhaps, but not now.”

Dr. Ashbury wanted to know what he was talking about, but at his promise to tell her the story in the future, she let it go. A week ago, he had walked into the office adamant at remaining silent, and now he had agreed to reveal more about himself at a later time. As far as she was concerned, that was as much progress as she could expect because of the stubborn person that he was. Not wanting to push his limits, she changed the topic.

“How are you coping?" she asked.

"You mean have I started drinking again?" he replied, his eyebrow cocked.

Ville knew that's what Dr. Ashbury was insinuating as it was her job to ensure he didn't relapse. It wasn’t surprising for her to ask, but it was disconcerting to be scrutinized like this. Instead of being treated like the grown adult he was, his behavior was being tracked like a child by an overprotective mother. He rolled his eyes.

"....No, I’m sober, except for the cigs, if that counts.” he answered.

“Not really. Alcohol is the substance of my interest. As long as you’re not trying to use that to help you in this difficult time, we don’t have any issues. Alcohol isn’t going to help you.” she said diplomatically.

“The only person capable of helping me right now is the one who's gone. She's the only one who's held the reins to my sanity." Ville said while staring into the floor.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because we were in love, and I didn't need the alcohol around her.” he said matter-of-factly. “Ave had this remarkable ability to calm me and hypnotize me with her words. Before, I was using beer to help get through the continuous shows and to... to fill a void, I suppose. But after I met her, I didn't need all that, at least when I was around her. When I was on tour, I would continue my habits, but not around her. She kept me sane."

"But you did quit, at some point."

"Yeah, because there was a period when I was drinking, smoking, etc. so much that the doctors said I wouldn't make it to my 35th birthday. I didn't care much, and no one could coax me into stopping.”

“What made you decide to stop?”

“Ave got wind of the news, and she was not happy to say the least." he said with a smirk, remembering what she’d done.

“What did she do?”

“Well, the band was playing a festival in London for the weekend in the midst of recording our new album, Venus Doom.” Ville recalled. “I had had a particularly bad night of partying the Friday night after the first show. I was hunched over the toilet puking with a beer in my hand, taking swigs now and again. Even when suffering through the consequences of his alcohol intake, I couldn’t put the bottle down. I was in too deep.

“After realizing that he couldn’t do anything, Seppo, my manager, decided to give Ave a call. She was aware of my drinking habits, but she had dismissed it because she didn't know how bad it was. Like I said, I didn’t drink much when I was around her, so she never knew. When she heard what the doctors had said and how I had ignored their words, she dropped everything and got on the next available flight to see me. Out of concern, of course… but she… she was furious.”

April 28, 2007

Seppo had called Avery and informed her of Ville's habits. He was constantly drinking whether it was while recording the album or playing shows. The only times he was sober were when he was writing music or spending time with Avery and there was no reason to be drinking. Otherwise, he saw the world through a pair of beer goggles. It broke her heart to hear how much he was hurting himself. She felt responsible, as though she had played some role in it all.

Avery knew that he was playing the Give it a Name Festival with HIM that weekend, so she flew out to see him. From the airport, she dressed for the weather in a long black casual dress with a thick belt and a gold necklace. The ankle she had sprained at her parents’ house had healed by this point, and she took advantage of it by wearing high-heeled boots. Since she had packed in a hurry, she only had a small carry-on bag with a couple of simple outfits for the weekend.

After dropping her belongings at Ville’s hotel room, she proceeded to the arena. When she got to the venue, she was allowed backstage and watched the show for the night. The boys were already onstage by the time she arrived, so she hung by the sidelines. As much as she tried to enjoy the music, all she wanted to do was run on stage and confiscate the beers Ville held in his hand. The fact that Ville was drinking despite what the doctors had told him infuriated her.

Avery was pacing backstage while watching the show with her hands crossed over her chest. Bam was also in town and therefore at the show. He saw the familiar face and joined her.

"What up?" He asked as he came over, beer in hand.

"Hey! Bam, I didn’t know you were in town.” She gave him a hug. "How are you doing?"

Not wanting to spook Bam, she hid her current tensions from him and tried her best to keep a normal conversation. Avery was bursting at the seams, but if she let Bam know what was worrying her, she wasn’t sure she would accept his reaction. Bam could be supportive of her concern and help her intervene, but he could also try to squash her fears. She thought it best to keep him out of it.

"Same ole, same ole." he replied.

"Uh oh."

"What?"

"You sound bored. Should I be cautious? Maybe you told security I was packing a gun or something." She joked.

"Why would I do that?"

Avery shrugged. "Just for kicks. I’ve heard all about your naughty antics, mister."

"Yeah, well, I think I would have to take that a couple notches further from just packing a gun. That’s not nearly interesting enough." he noted.

"Take it a couple notches further? To what exactly?"

"Oh, you'll see. You've given me some inspiration." Bam replied with a sneaky grin.

"Bam, I was just kidding. Don't you dare do anything." She warned, but with a playful smile on her face.

"I can't make any promises. I gotta stir the pot, keep things interesting."

“Mhmm. I’ll be on the lookout.” she replied. “You seem to be at every concert of theirs. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“I’m not out here all the time!” he insisted. “I came to New York to see them because it was so close to home. The show there was much bigger than the one in Philly, so I obviously had to come to that. And this one is actually just by coincidence. I’m here on business for a skate competition.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a free pass on that, then.” she joked.

"How are you guys? You and Ville, I mean." Bam clarified, using the beer bottle to point to the singer on stage.

"We're doing well. As best as we possibly can with Ville traveling so much. I haven't physically seen him or spent time with him for very long in the six months we've been dating."

"Yeah, I know it's hard. He used to come visit me quite a bit, especially after he and Jonna ended things. Now if I wanna see him, I have to come out to a show, which... you know, I can't complain too much about, but still. It’s not the same, once he met you."

"Sorry for stealing your boyfriend away." Avery laughed. "I didn't realize your bromance was so strong."

Bam rolled his eyes at her suggestive comments. "Yeah well, at least he's happy with you. I swear, though, if it starts to affect the music, I'm gonna have a serious problem with you. He writes better lyrics when he's miserable, and I'm not sure how all this happy energy is going to affect that." He warned.

"He's talented; I'm sure things will be fine."

“Mhmm.” he said, suspicious of the truth. “We’ll see.”

They returned to watching the show. Ville seemed to be having a ball onstage, and it instantly put a smile on her face. Watching him entertain the crowd was stupefying. He was very commanding and in control of the crowd’s attention, but he always made sure to include them in the performance, making it interactive. Avery enjoyed the rest of the show and cheered when HIM finished up the last song. When the band got offstage, everyone was surprised to see her.

"Hey, when'd you get here?" Mige asked as he walked over.

"Around the beginning of the show.” Avery said. “I came to surprise you guys. I know I haven't been able to make it out to see you play very often, so I wanted to at least catch the ones this weekend."

What she was saying wasn’t false; she truly had been too busy to come out to the shows. Right now, though, it wasn’t the primary reason she was in town.

"Ah, well, we're glad to see you." he replied.

"That we are." Ville said as he approached. He wrapped an arm around Avery's shoulders and kissed her. "Hello, darling."

"Hello to you, too." She smiled.

He took her hand and led them with the rest of the group downstairs to the green room. Although he was right next to her, Ville didn’t feel present to her. He was in a different world, enjoying himself and drowning in alcohol. To see him like this--to see him so low--it absolutely broke her. She didn’t understand what she had done wrong. If she made him happy, why did he feel the need to drink so much? Why was he always intoxicated? What was he hiding from?

When she looked at him, she saw a different person. She didn’t see the happy, loving person who spoke to her on the phone everyday. She saw a hurt, damaged man. She saw through the facade he had placed for the world and saw the man he truly was when she wasn’t around. It tugged at her heartstrings to have to see him like this and caused a pulling twinge of pain in her chest.

Avery didn't want to bring up the delicate matter right this second upon reuniting. She decided to avoid making a scene. Besides, Ville was already pretty intoxicated and lacked enough concentration to hold a serious conversation. The couple was sitting on the couch; Avery sat in his lap and faked a smile through the night while slyly regulating his alcohol intake. She left his mouth preoccupied with her own, leaving him unable to drink as much as he usually did. Ville didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

All around them were people hustling about from one side of the room to another. They were playing games, laughing, and having fun. Avery, though, was caught up in her own little world to notice what was going on. She was only aware of Ville and the pungent smell of alcohol emanating from him. Her nose turned in disgust; she was used to the smell of alcohol, but now it meant something entirely different. Avery no longer identified the smell with the multitude of party drinks containing liquor but rather with the pain and deception in her relationship with Ville.

After about 45 minutes at the afterparty, Avery decided to pull him away from the tempting scene of alcohol around him. He had spent enough time there to make his presence known and could likely leave without much protest from anybody else, especially since he would be leaving with her. There was a car waiting outside to escort anybody from HIM back to the hotel, and she took this moment to make a move. She slithered away from his lips and brought her mouth to his ear.

"What do you say we take this back to the room?" She seductively whispered.

In response, Ville kissed her roughly once more and held her hand to help her up. They walked to the car hand in hand and snuck kisses intermittently during the short ride to the hotel.

They were very coy and respectful as they walked through the hotel, but it was a whole other story once they made it inside his room. Ville pinned her against the back of the door, and, while his lips worked hers, his hands removed her dress. After kicking off her shoes, she curled her legs around his waist, and he led them to the bed. He lay her down on the bed and crawled on top of her; Ville straddled her while his lips covered every inch of her torso in kisses. He unfastened her strapless bra and threw it over his head; he ran his tongue in a circle around her left nipple, and it threw her over the edge.

She took control, removing his shirt and flipping them over so that she was on top. Avery kissed him and trailed his jawline before finding a suitable spot on his neck at which to leave a mark. She straddled him at the waist, and her back was arched forward so that she could reach his neck. He kept his hands at her waist to support her body while hers roamed his hair. His breath quickened at her movements, and she could feel him grow beneath her. Her lips grew into a smirk at the knowledge that her actions were working. Ville pulled her face back to his lips and their tongues battled for control. He unbuckled his jeans and shimmied out of them as he flipped Avery onto her back. It was only a few moments before the remaining articles of clothing were removed.

This wasn’t the same person she had been in bed with months ago on Valentine’s Day. Ville wasn’t happy and polite. No, right now, he was an animal with his eyes set on his prey. She knew it was the alcohol that made him this way, and she kicked herself for being so oblivious to what was happening to him. She blamed herself for not seeing this sooner. What she didn’t realize was that Ville never intended for her to know about this. It was his dirty little secret.

April 29, 2007

Ville woke up the next morning alone. He was sprawled out across the bed, naked under the sheets with his disheveled hair. Though hungover, he vaguely recalled Avery being with him; with one eye half-open, he felt around the bed for her warm body to pull her close. Unable to feel her presence, he groaned. He closed his eyes, wanting to drift back to sleep. Still, he called out her name.

"Ave! Sweetheart!" He called while keeping his head glued to the pillow.

"In here!" She replied from the bathroom.

She walked out while braiding her hair to her right side. She was already showered and dressed and it was only 8 am. Clearly, jetlag wasn't an issue today, not when she had other things on her mind. After having sex last night, Ville had rolled off to sleep. Avery, on the other hand, sat at the window trying to think of the best way to express herself. She had stolen glances of his sleeping form, but it did nothing to alleviate her apprehension. Around three thirty in the morning, Avery had joined Ville on the bed and slept, though poorly. Around 6:30am, she couldn’t force herself to get rest any longer and decided to start getting ready.

"Where are you off to?" He asked upon seeing her attire, a grey jumpsuit with a thin red belt at the waist.

"Nowhere. You should start getting ready. Your call time is in an hour." She said, giving him a kiss.
She sat on the bed next to him, finishing her braid with a hairtie. He groaned and turned over.

"Baby, come on." she said.

She pulled his shoulder toward her so that his back was against the bed again. He groaned once more but got up. Avery pointed to the bedside table where she had placed an Advil and a glass of water, which he gratefully took. He stood and walked toward the bathroom for his shower.

"Care to join me?" He offered and looked back.

"I just got ready!” she said with a light chuckle. “I gotta pick up some breakfast. So... raincheck?"

He nodded. She left the hotel after asking the hotel concierge for a decent cafe nearby; she followed the directions down a block and came to the coffee shop. She ordered two bagels and two black coffees. By the time she returned to the hotel room, Ville was out of the shower and dressed. She tried to treat the impending conversation like a trial's opening arguments, but she couldn't help but be a little nervous. At the moment, there was nothing left for her to do but speak her mind openly. Avery glanced at the clock, and she had about 15 minutes before Ville had to leave to make his call time.

"Ah, thanks, dear." He said as Avery handed him his coffee.

"You're welcome...um, can we talk?"

Ville raised his eyebrows, surprised at her wavering voice. "Sure. Is something wrong?”

Avery took a seat in the chair by the window, and Ville sat across from her.

"So, I received an alarming call the other day." she started.

"About what?"

"Seppo told me what the doctors told you about your drinking and how it needs to stop."

"That's what this is about? Oh, that's nothing, darling." He dismissed with a casual smile.

"Ville, they said you're going to be peeing blood if you don't stop." She said sternly.

Immediately, his expression changed, and he didn't seem so jovial anymore.

“I’m only going to ask this once, and I need an honest answer. Are you still in love with Jonna? Are you still hurt by what happened with her?” she asked.

Ville’s mouth fell agape, and he was aghast to know that’s what she thought. “N-no, of course not. I’ve moved on from that long ago… How could you think I’d be so disrespectful to you? You’re not some rebound or whatever for me. You mean more than that.”

“Ville, this isn’t about me. Right now, this is about you. It’s about why you feel the need to be drunk every second of the day. I don’t--I don’t understand. What’s wrong?” she continued authoritatively.

She wasn’t bothered by how offended he was by her suggestion that he was inconsiderate of her. Right now, she was in search for the truth, and his feelings were irrelevant. He was a defendant on the stand, as far she was concerned.

“Nothing is wrong. I...” he sighed. “I don’t know why I drink all the time. It’s become a habit, a lifestyle, I suppose. After doing it for years and years, it’s just become one of those things… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you thought this was some defense mechanism against what Jonna did… It’s not. I’ve moved on from that months ago.”

Avery’s tone softened. "Honey, I care about you alot, and when you're out here on tour doing crazy shit... I get it. It's the unwritten part of the contract of being a rockstar, and I’m not going to stop you from doing your job. However, there's a limit. When a doctor tells you something as serious as you not being a-alive" her breath caught in her throat as the words became hard to express. "...not being alive in five years, that's serious. You need to listen."

Her eyes started to well up, but she blinked the tears away, making sure he didn't notice. Once she composed herself, she maintained eye contact and continued.

"I know that… that we hardly see each other, but that doesn't change anything." She swallowed hard before saying her next words. "Ville, I love you. I've never met anyone as captivating as you are; I've never been as compatible with someone as I am with you. You’re romantic and sweet. I love your odd, wicked sense of humor. You can express yourself through music like no one I’ve ever met before, and it-- you set my world on fire. I know that I'm probably going to do something ridiculously stupid down the line that's going to ruin our relationship, but please… I don't--I don’t want to lose you to something like this."

Ville was taken aback by the sentiment. It was the first time either of them had ever said 'I love you,’ though the feeling was mutual. He held out his hand, beckoning her to come closer. She stood up and walked to the other side of the table so that she was in front of him; Ville pulled her onto his lap and enveloped her in a hug. He kissed her lips and leaned his forehead against hers, holding her neck tenderly.

“I love you, too. And I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that my behavior would have such an effect on you. I’ll stop. Okay?”

She nodded and let some stray tears slipped out. She whispered, “I want you to get help. I want you to get professional help at a place where they can control the environment. When an alcoholic is going through withdrawal, it can be fatal, and I want someone to, you know, to have a handle on things. I want you to be around someone who knows what your body is going through and can help you. I can’t lose you.”

Her words were tugging at his heartstrings, and she had complete control over him. Ville felt like she owned his heart to the point where he was at her beck and call, willing to do anything she requested. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep her happy, and it hurt to see her so dejected. If it was her wish for him to attend rehab and seek help in a controlled facility, he would do so.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” he said, kissing her tears away. “I’m sorry.”

“We finished the festival the following day. By the end of the week, I found a place and made arrangements at a rehab facility in Malibu.” Ville narrated to his therapist.

“Promises?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. It was for about a month… but it was helpful. It was what I needed. My first real vacation in almost 10 years, actually.”

“How did Avery feel about it all? About you being so far away, I mean.”

“We had gotten used to the time apart; it was a long-distance relationship, after all. Even though I could have spent that time in New York with her, she was fine with it. I had to miss her birthday, but she didn’t mind since it was because of the rehab. She told me that I needed to go and that she understood and supported me. She said that she was proud of me. Always good things. She loved me even at my worst.”

“Did it help?”

“The rehab? Of course it did. I’ve been clean ever since then… I wouldn’t have done it without her, though. I cared for my parents and for my family, obviously, but I never stopped to think how my drinking affected them. I was just caught up in the rush of touring and the beer kept me going. There was never a time when I thought that something would happen to me; I felt invincible at the tender age of thirty years old. I would never have done anything to stop if she hadn’t showed me what I was doing to the people around me. I needed that push from her.”

He leaned back in the couch and let his head fall over the back so that it faced the ceiling. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his right hand.

“What’s wrong?” Dr. Ashbury asked.

“I don’t know. I just feel so lost… we had our whole lives ahead of us; vacations, dinners… a family. Now what?”

“There was a point when she wasn’t in your life. You were fine and able then; sometimes people in relationships tend to place an incredible amount of power in the hands of their partner. When he is with that person for a long time, he tends to depend on her more and more, maybe without realizing it. We can revert you back to that time when you lived without her, but it calls for a lot of effort on your part. You have to want to move on before any progress can be made.”

“What are you suggesting? That I simply forget about her?” Ville was appalled at the suggestion and lifted his head to look at her quizzically.

“Absolutely not. I’m saying that you have to believe in yourself. You have to believe that you can live with a purpose and not feel as lost as you do now. I’ve noticed that you continue to emphasize how much she meant to you, and I think you may feel that by moving on, you are rendering null any love you have for her… which simply isn’t true. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting.”

“So what do I need to do?”

“For a few years, you have let your life be defined by the actions and the happiness of someone else. You need to slowly transition your life back into one in which you are the person with control. You need to regain your independence.”

“But she’s gone.” He said, still not understanding.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should condemn yourself to solitude. I know that it’s only been two weeks since she passed, and all I’m asking is that you’re careful. Once you fall down the hole and become depressed--and I mean clinically depressed--it’s a long journey back out. Obviously you need time to grieve, but you also need to start to live your life for yourself.”

“But that’s not going to bring her back.”

“The harsh reality of it all is that nothing is. The fact is that Avery is gone. I know it’s hard and it seems impossible to move past this, but you have to understand and to accept that she’s not coming back.”

Ville looked down at his hands to absorb her words. Could he do that? Could he live his life knowing that his life with Avery was but a memory? Would he be able to live a full life with only the knowledge of a blissful love that he had for a few short years? He certainly didn’t think so. He didn’t think that his lifelong search for a trustworthy person to love would end like this. It wasn’t fair. All he wanted was for there to be someone who picks up his heavy, bleeding heart and takes it somewhere safe and warm. For seven years, Avery had been that someone.

“You said at the beginning of this session that you’re only going to remember her in that casket, but that’s not true. You have all these memories of the two of you together. Doesn’t that count for something?”

He met her gaze with his dull green orbs.

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.” he said solemnly.

The question is: is that enough?