Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Johnny no longer understood what day it was half the time. Morning and night blurred together beneath weak yellow lights, cigarette smoke, and the constant noise leaking through thin walls downstairs. The dressing room mirrors had become unbearable now. Every single reflection looked wrong. Distorted. Rotten somehow. Johnny would sit in front of the cracked glass with trembling hands and stare at himself for long stretches without recognizing the person staring back anymore. Blond hair falling into pale eyes. Dark circles beneath them. Bruises blooming faintly along his throat and collarbone where makeup barely covered anything anymore. But the worst part was never the bruises. It was Diego. Somehow Diego existed inside every reflection now. Johnny could not even lift his head toward a mirror without hearing that cold British voice crawling through his skull again. Whore. Pathetic. Weak. Sometimes Johnny genuinely flinched when he heard it because for one split second it sounded real enough to make him think Diego was standing directly behind him again. Watching him. Judging him. Smiling that horrible thin smile. Johnny began avoiding mirrors completely after awhile. If he accidentally caught his reflection in polished glass downstairs, nausea twisted through him so violently he had to look away immediately. It felt like Diego had infected every part of his life somehow. Every room upstairs smelled faintly like him now even when he was gone. Expensive cologne. Cigarettes. Cold air from outside after horse training. Johnny hated himself for noticing details like that. Hated himself because his body remembered Diego too well now. The pressure of hands against his throat. Fingers in his hair. That terrible calm voice speaking like cruelty was the most natural thing in the world. Johnny wanted it out of his head. God, he wanted silence. Real silence. But Diego remained everywhere. Even downstairs customers reminded him of Diego now. A man laughing too softly. Gloves against skin. Somebody speaking too calmly. Every little thing dragged Johnny right back toward him until panic and fury twisted together inside his chest so tightly he thought it might suffocate him. Francesco noticed the change immediately too. Of course he did. Men like Francesco always noticed when people were breaking apart because suffering made money. Diego left enormous amounts behind every visit, enough that Francesco barely bothered sending Johnny to anyone else anymore. “Special customer,” Francesco would call him with that greasy smile while counting bills downstairs. Johnny wanted to smash bottles across his face every time he heard it. Special customer. Like Diego owned him now. Like Johnny existed upstairs waiting quietly until Diego decided to return again. The thought made something violent burn inside him every single time. Sometimes Johnny locked himself alone inside dark upstairs bathrooms afterward just to breathe without hearing anybody speak Diego’s name. But even there, leaning shakily over cracked sinks beneath buzzing lights, he still heard him anyway. You’re getting easier to touch. Johnny would grip the sink hard enough for his knuckles to ache while rage climbed hotter and hotter beneath his ribs until tears blurred his vision against his will. He hated Diego Brando. Truly hated him in a way that felt poisonous now. This was not the old rivalry anymore. Not childhood bitterness. Not racing hatred. Not Steel Ball Run violence. This had become something uglier. More personal. Diego had looked directly inside him and found every broken thing Johnny wanted hidden. Then he stayed anyway.

At night it became worse. Much worse. Johnny could survive the daytime sometimes if he distracted himself enough. The noise downstairs helped occasionally because drunken laughter and music drowned out his thoughts for a few precious minutes. But nighttime destroyed him. The second the building quieted even slightly and weak yellow light stretched across the ceiling above his bed, Diego’s voice returned immediately. Calm. Precise. Merciless. Johnny would shut his eyes tightly and still hear him anyway. You’re already ruined. Sometimes he physically covered his ears like that might help stop it, but nothing ever did. The words stayed trapped inside his skull no matter what he tried. Sleep barely came anymore. When it did, nightmares dragged him awake almost instantly afterward. Diego standing over him. Diego laughing quietly beside mirrors. Diego whispering horrible things against his throat while Johnny stayed frozen beneath him unable to move. Johnny would wake gasping with sweat sticking cold against his skin while the room stayed dark and empty around him. Empty except for Diego’s presence lingering inside his head like rot spreading through walls. Johnny began understanding why people lost their minds eventually. Isolation changed people. Humiliation changed people. Diego had turned his thoughts into something vicious and endless that Johnny could not escape anymore. Some nights Johnny sat alone on the floor beside his bed with shaking hands pressed hard against his face while fighting the urge to smash his head directly into the wall until everything stopped. He wanted silence. God, just silence once. But every thought somehow circled back toward Diego again. That was the sickest part. Johnny hated him so deeply that hatred itself became exhausting. He wanted Diego dead. Truly dead. Not defeated. Not humiliated. Dead. The feeling frightened him sometimes because it no longer resembled ordinary anger. Johnny thought about Diego bleeding sometimes while staring blankly toward dark ceilings at three in the morning. Thought about grabbing one of the broken bottles downstairs and driving it directly into Diego’s throat the next time he walked through that upstairs door wearing those expensive riding clothes and that cold expression. The fantasy made Johnny breathe easier sometimes. That terrified him most. Because part of him genuinely believed he could do it now. Diego had stripped away almost every remaining piece of him already. Pride. Dignity. Self-worth. Even mirrors no longer belonged to Johnny anymore because Diego existed inside them too. What exactly remained afterward? Some exhausted half-starved thing lying upstairs waiting for footsteps in hallways. Johnny hated himself almost as much as he hated Diego now. That was Diego’s real victory. Not the sex. Not the humiliation. The fact Johnny started seeing himself through Diego’s eyes even when alone. Weak. Cheap. Ruined. Sometimes Johnny caught himself repeating Diego’s insults internally before customers even spoke to him first. That realization nearly made him sick the first time it happened. He had spent so long fighting Diego throughout his life only to end up carrying Diego’s voice inside his own head afterward like poison stitched beneath skin. Francesco once jokingly asked downstairs if Johnny was “falling in love” with his rich customer because Johnny looked physically ill every time Diego’s name came up. Johnny nearly attacked him for it. Love. The word itself felt disgusting now. No — this was not love. Love did not make Johnny want to destroy somebody completely. Love did not make him fantasize about death just to feel peace again. Diego Brando was not something Johnny loved. Diego was a disease living underneath his ribs now, poisoning every breath he took.

The mirrors became the worst part eventually. Worse than the customers. Worse than Francesco. Worse than even the physical pain left behind after Diego visited. Johnny could endure bruises. Bruises faded. Bruises healed eventually even if new ones replaced them afterward. But mirrors stayed. Every hallway upstairs had one somewhere. Small cracked ones hanging beside dressing room doors. Large polished mirrors near staircases downstairs where workers fixed makeup between customers. Even tiny reflective pieces inside bathrooms became unbearable now. Johnny started lowering his head automatically whenever he walked anywhere because the second he accidentally saw himself reflected somewhere, panic hit immediately. It never even looked like himself anymore. Diego had ruined that too. Johnny would catch sight of blond hair and pale skin beneath weak yellow lighting and instantly hear Diego’s voice again like somebody whispering directly into his ear. You belong here. Sometimes Johnny froze completely afterward, staring into the reflection too long while nausea crawled violently through him. Because part of him feared Diego was right. That was the horror underneath everything now. Diego looked at him like somebody already permanently broken, and slowly Johnny began believing it too. One evening Johnny stood alone inside the upstairs dressing room while distant music drifted faintly through walls downstairs. Weak yellow lights buzzed overhead. The cracked mirror sat directly in front of him. Johnny stared at his reflection silently for several long minutes without blinking. Blond hair hanging unevenly near his eyes. Lips pale now without makeup. Bruises faint beneath his collarbone. Exhaustion everywhere. He looked terrible. Hollow. Wrong somehow. Then suddenly Johnny saw Diego instead. Not literally — but close enough that his chest seized painfully anyway. Diego’s cold eyes. Diego’s expression. Diego looking at him with detached amusement while speaking softly about weakness and humiliation and rot. Johnny’s breathing immediately turned uneven. “Shut up,” he muttered under his breath. The mirror stayed silent. Johnny gripped the edge of the wooden table harder. “Shut th’hell up.” But Diego’s voice continued anyway inside his head. You’re getting comfortable here. Johnny suddenly snapped. His fist crashed directly into the cracked mirror hard enough that glass shattered violently across the dressing room floor. The sound echoed sharply through the hallway outside. Johnny barely felt the pain immediately afterward. Blood dripped heavily down his hand while broken glass scattered everywhere beneath weak yellow lights. His breathing came fast and ragged now. Still he stared at the ruined reflection anyway. Even shattered, he could still see himself inside it. Pale. Trembling. Ruined. Johnny let out a broken laugh afterward that sounded dangerously close to crying. Then he slowly slid downward against the wall beside the mirror until he sat on the floor surrounded by broken glass and blood while distant music downstairs continued playing like nothing happened. Francesco found him nearly twenty minutes later sitting there silently with his injured hand hanging weakly over his knee. “Jesus Christ, JoJo,” Francesco muttered while stepping carefully around shattered glass. “What the hell happened?” Johnny didn’t answer. He just kept staring toward the ruined mirror pieces scattered across the floor because even broken apart, Diego still somehow existed inside every reflection anyway. Francesco crouched beside him afterward with visible irritation mixed beneath concern. “You’re gonna scare customers lookin’ like this.” That sentence finally made Johnny laugh again quietly beneath his breath. Customers. Right. That was all he was now. Something displayed beneath lights for people with money. Francesco kept talking but Johnny barely listened anymore. Somewhere deeper inside himself something had started collapsing completely now. He could feel it happening slowly. Like walls inside his head giving way piece by piece. And Diego stood at the center of it all smiling calmly while everything burned.

Johnny began disappearing from downstairs more often after that night. Francesco hated it immediately because customers constantly asked where “JoJo” had gone, but Johnny stopped caring. Whenever footsteps or loud voices became too overwhelming, he vanished upstairs into empty rooms nobody used during daytime hours. Sometimes he locked himself inside old storage spaces filled with dusty furniture and cigarette smoke soaked into curtains from years earlier. Other times he sat alone inside dark bathrooms with lights turned off completely just to avoid reflections staring back at him again. The darkness helped slightly. At least in darkness Diego’s face could not follow him through mirrors. But silence still betrayed him eventually every single time. Johnny would sit curled against cold walls hugging his arms tightly while Diego’s voice replayed endlessly through his skull like a broken record that refused to stop. You aren’t tragic. You’re weak. The memory of hearing it face-to-face still made heat crawl painfully beneath Johnny’s skin even now. Diego always sounded so calm saying cruel things. That was what truly destroyed people about him. If Diego shouted or lost control, maybe Johnny could have hated him normally. But Diego remained elegant through all of it. Controlled. Beautiful in a cold monstrous way that made everything he said cut deeper because he never sounded emotional while saying it. Johnny hated remembering details like that. Hated remembering the shape of Diego’s hands or the faint smell of smoke lingering on expensive sweaters after horse training. Sometimes Johnny genuinely wanted to carve those memories directly out of his own head somehow. He stopped eating properly too. Francesco complained constantly about it because “customers liked him prettier,” but food made Johnny nauseous lately. His stomach twisted itself sick every time Diego visited afterward anyway. Diego noticed immediately of course. Diego noticed everything. The last visit still replayed vividly inside Johnny’s mind in ugly fragments he could not shut off. You really should eat more. You’re starting to look fragile. Johnny wanted to scream remembering it. Even concern sounded cruel coming from Diego because nothing Diego said ever felt human anymore. Johnny lay awake most nights afterward imagining impossible scenarios over and over again. What if he grabbed Diego’s throat next time? What if he finally stopped talking and smashed something heavy into Diego’s skull while he stood near the bed removing gloves? What if Diego bled all over those expensive riding clothes? The fantasies frightened Johnny because they no longer felt imaginary. He could practically feel the glass in his hands sometimes. Could picture Diego finally looking shocked for once instead of coldly amused all the damn time. Johnny wanted that expression more than anything now. Fear. Weakness. Pain. He wanted Diego to feel ruined too. Because Diego ruined him first. One night downstairs a customer grabbed Johnny’s chin too suddenly while drunkenly slurring compliments against his mouth. Johnny instantly panicked so violently he nearly punched the man directly across the face. “Don’t touch me like that,” Johnny snapped sharply before he could stop himself. The customer looked startled. Francesco looked furious. But Johnny barely noticed either reaction because for half a second the man’s hand had felt too much like Diego’s against his jaw. Afterward Francesco cornered him angrily near the dressing rooms demanding to know what the hell was wrong lately. Johnny only laughed bitterly hearing the question. What was wrong? Everything. Diego had hollowed him out so thoroughly that even ordinary touch felt contaminated now. And worst of all, Johnny knew Diego would come back eventually. He always came back. Like a predator revisiting injured prey just to see if it finally stopped trying to escape.

By the time another week passed, Johnny no longer felt entirely real anymore. Everything around him seemed distant now, blurred slightly at the edges like life itself had become something happening far away from where he actually existed. Upstairs hallways stretched endlessly beneath weak lights. Music downstairs sounded muffled and warped. Even conversations drifted past him without fully registering anymore. Francesco noticed immediately. “Jesus Christ, JoJo, you look dead,” he muttered one evening while Johnny sat motionless in front of the dressing room table. Johnny barely reacted. He kept staring downward at his own pale hands resting in his lap instead. Thin wrists. Faint bruises. Fresh cigarette burns from another customer earlier that week. Diego’s voice immediately whispered through his thoughts afterward. Completely ruined already. Johnny shut his eyes tightly. God, make it stop. He could not survive this much longer. Deep down Johnny understood something terrifying now — Diego did not even need to physically touch him anymore to hurt him. Diego already lived inside his head permanently. Every cruel sentence. Every cold laugh. Every look filled with detached amusement. They replayed endlessly whether Diego stood inside the room or not. That realization hollowed Johnny out worse than anything physical ever could. One night Johnny wheeled himself slowly toward the upstairs bathroom after another exhausting shift downstairs. The hallway remained dark except for flickering yellow lights overhead. Everything smelled faintly like old smoke and cheap perfume. Johnny pushed open the bathroom door quietly and froze immediately afterward. Mirror. Large. Polished. Waiting directly across from him above the sink. Johnny’s stomach twisted violently. For several long seconds he stayed motionless near the doorway breathing unevenly while panic crawled slowly through him again. Then reluctantly, Johnny lifted his eyes toward the reflection. Pale exhausted face. Blond hair hanging messily near bruised eyes. Thin shoulders wrapped in oversized fabric. He looked weak. Diego’s voice returned instantly. You’re getting easier to touch. Johnny physically recoiled from the mirror afterward like somebody struck him across the face. “No,” he whispered sharply beneath his breath. His breathing quickened. “No no no—” Suddenly Johnny grabbed the nearest object he could reach — a glass bottle left abandoned near the sink — and hurled it directly into the mirror. Glass exploded violently across the bathroom. The crash echoed through empty hallways upstairs. Johnny stared wildly at shattered reflections raining downward afterward while his chest rose and fell in harsh uneven breaths. Tiny broken pieces covered the sink and floor now. Inside every shard he still saw fragments of himself staring back distorted and ruined beneath flickering yellow lights. Johnny suddenly felt tears burning hot behind his eyes. That terrified him more than anything. He pressed shaking hands hard against his face while his body trembled uncontrollably inside the ruined bathroom. “I hate you,” he whispered brokenly. Whether he meant Diego or himself no longer seemed entirely clear anymore. Maybe both. Probably both. Downstairs music continued faintly beneath the floorboards while somewhere outside horses moved through cold nighttime streets and Diego Brando remained alive somewhere beneath the same sky completely untouched by all the destruction he left behind inside other people. And Johnny — exhausted, shaking, trapped inside a building that no longer felt escapable — slowly began understanding that hatred could hollow a person out just as completely as love could.

Johnny still hadn’t moved from the bathroom floor.

Broken glass remained scattered around him beneath the flickering yellow light while tiny shattered reflections stared back from every direction. His breathing had finally slowed, but his chest still hurt badly from panic and exhaustion clawing through him all night. The smashed mirror above the sink hung crooked now, jagged cracks splitting through the remaining pieces like veins. Inside every fragment Johnny could still see himself distorted beyond recognition. Pale skin. Hollow eyes. Blond hair hanging messily into his face. He looked like somebody already halfway gone. Somewhere downstairs music continued playing faintly beneath the floorboards while men laughed over drinks like the world upstairs wasn’t quietly rotting apart. Johnny hated that sound lately. Everything downstairs felt unreal now. Too loud. Too alive compared to the awful emptiness sitting inside him all the time. Eventually Francesco found him there after hearing the crash. He didn’t even look surprised anymore seeing Johnny surrounded by broken glass. That somehow made Johnny feel worse. Francesco only sighed tiredly before crouching near the doorway. “You done destroyin’ things?” he muttered beneath his breath. Johnny didn’t answer. He just kept staring blankly toward the ruined mirror pieces on the floor because even shattered apart, reflections still reminded him of Diego somehow. Francesco watched him silently for several seconds afterward before speaking again. “Brando ain’t comin’ tonight.” Johnny’s stomach immediately twisted hearing the name anyway. Diego wasn’t even there and still managed crawling underneath Johnny’s skin instantly. God. Johnny hated him so much. Francesco stood afterward and brushed dust from his sleeves. “Get some sleep, JoJo.” His tone stayed unusually calm now, almost cautious. “You look half dead.” Then he left Johnny alone again inside the broken bathroom with buzzing lights and silence thick enough to suffocate him. Johnny eventually dragged himself shakily back toward the dressing room later that night. His shoulders ached. His eyes burned. Everything inside him felt stretched too tightly now, like one more thing might finally break him apart completely. When he passed another mirror in the hallway, Johnny immediately lowered his gaze before he could accidentally see himself again. He couldn’t do it tonight. Couldn’t survive another moment staring into reflections only to hear Diego’s voice whispering through his skull afterward. By morning Johnny still hadn’t slept properly. He sat slumped in front of the dressing room table beneath weak yellow lights while distant noise drifted upward from downstairs. Makeup sat untouched beside him. Cigarettes burned low inside overflowing ashtrays nearby. His entire body felt numb now. Empty. Then the dressing room door suddenly opened and Francesco stepped inside carrying papers and half-finished whiskey in one hand. He looked irritated already. “Alright,” he muttered. “Enough of this damn drama.” Johnny barely lifted his head hearing him. Francesco glanced toward him briefly before continuing. “Brando’s money only carries you for so long.” Johnny’s jaw tightened faintly at that. Of course. Somehow even now this still came back to Diego. Francesco pointed lazily toward the clothing laid out nearby. “Get ready. Normal customer tonight.” Johnny stared at him silently for a second afterward. Strange how hearing those words almost relieved him. Normal customer. Not Diego. Not cold green eyes watching him like prey beneath dim yellow lights. Just another drunk bastard downstairs paying for a body and forgetting it afterward. Johnny slowly looked away again and muttered tiredly beneath his breath, “Fine.”

Johnny didn’t think much while getting ready afterward.

That was the problem lately. Thinking hurt too much now, so most nights he simply moved automatically instead. Makeup. Lipstick. Oversized shirt slipping from one shoulder. Pale blue fabric Francesco insisted customers liked against his skin. Johnny stared blankly toward the cracked mirror while applying makeup with slow exhausted hands, careful not to actually look directly at himself longer than necessary. Mirrors still made panic crawl unpleasantly beneath his ribs now. Every reflection carried traces of Diego somehow. Johnny hated that. Hated how deeply Diego still existed inside his head even while absent. Weak yellow lights buzzed overhead while downstairs laughter drifted faintly upward through thin walls. Another customer. Another night. Johnny forced himself numb before Francesco eventually returned and wheeled him silently toward one of the upstairs rooms. Neither of them spoke much. Francesco looked irritated still, probably over the destroyed bathroom mirror and yesterday’s screaming customer downstairs. Johnny barely cared anymore. He just wanted the night over quickly. The hallway remained dim and narrow around them while peeling wallpaper caught flickering light overhead. Johnny’s stomach tightened faintly anyway once Francesco stopped near the door. That reaction annoyed him immediately. It was only another man upstairs. Nothing different. Nothing dangerous. But his body no longer believed that logic now. Francesco opened the door without ceremony afterward and gestured lazily inside. “Behave yourself tonight.” Johnny said nothing. He only rolled himself quietly into the room instead while Francesco shut the door behind him again. The customer already waited near the bed beneath weak yellow lighting. Middle-aged maybe. Smelled heavily like alcohol and cologne mixed together unpleasantly. Not Diego. Definitely not Diego. Johnny noticed that immediately and forced himself calmer afterward. The man smiled seeing him enter. Johnny automatically returned the faint practiced expression customers expected by now even while exhaustion dragged heavily through him. “Evenin’,” Johnny muttered quietly in his rough Southern drawl. The customer approached almost immediately afterward. “Pretty thing,” he laughed drunkenly beneath his breath before grabbing Johnny easily beneath the arms and lifting him toward the bed. Johnny instinctively stiffened from the sudden contact but forced himself not reacting outwardly. Another customer. Another night. Just survive it quietly. The man settled him against the mattress afterward while Johnny stared blankly toward the ceiling trying already to disconnect mentally before things even started. That was easier lately. Letting his thoughts drift somewhere far away while strangers touched him. Johnny slowly shut his eyes. The mattress dipped beside him afterward as the customer climbed onto the bed too. Warm hands brushed against Johnny’s waist lazily. Still fine. Still manageable. Johnny focused on breathing slowly through the nausea always curling faintly inside him now. Then the man’s hand suddenly slid upward across Johnny’s throat. Everything shattered instantly afterward. Panic hit him so violently it barely felt human anymore. Johnny’s eyes flew open immediately. For one horrifying second the man above him wasn’t the customer anymore. It was Diego. Cold green eyes. Gloves against skin. Calm voice whispering humiliation directly against Johnny’s throat upstairs beneath black sheets and yellow lights. Johnny reacted before thinking. Teeth sank hard into flesh. The customer screamed violently. Blood flooded Johnny’s mouth immediately afterward while the man jerked backward cursing loudly. The room exploded into chaos all at once. Johnny barely understood what he’d done yet. His chest heaved violently while panic crashed through him in brutal waves. The customer grabbed Johnny hard by the hair immediately afterward yanking his head back painfully. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you little whore?!” Johnny physically recoiled hearing the word screamed at him. His entire body trembled uncontrollably now. Blood still coated his mouth.

The customer kept shouting afterward, clutching his bleeding arm while fury twisted his face beneath the weak yellow lights. Johnny barely processed half the words being thrown at him. His ears rang too loudly. Panic still crashed violently through his body while he sat frozen against the mattress breathing hard through parted lips. The taste of blood made nausea twist sharply inside his stomach. God. What had he just done? The man shoved him roughly backward across the bed again while cursing furiously. “Crazy fucking bitch—” Johnny flinched instinctively hearing the rage in his voice. Then suddenly the door burst open hard enough to slam against the wall. Francesco rushed inside immediately looking shocked for the first time in weeks. His eyes darted between the screaming customer and Johnny sitting pale and trembling against the sheets with blood smeared near his mouth. “Jesus Christ—” Francesco moved quickly toward the customer afterward trying calming him down before the situation worsened further. The man kept yelling anyway while showing the deep bite mark across his arm. Johnny stared at it blankly. The skin looked awful already. Red and swollen and bleeding badly enough to leave streaks dripping toward the man’s wrist. Johnny’s stomach turned harder. He genuinely hadn’t meant doing that. Or maybe he had. He no longer knew anymore. Francesco kept apologizing rapidly afterward while guiding the furious customer toward the doorway promising refunds and free drinks downstairs. Johnny remained completely motionless during all of it. The room felt unreal now somehow. Distant. Like he watched everything happen through thick glass instead of actually sitting there himself. Eventually the customer finally stormed out still cursing loudly beneath his breath while Francesco shut the door hard behind him. Silence crashed down instantly afterward. Weak yellow lights buzzed overhead again. Johnny still couldn’t stop shaking. Francesco slowly turned back toward him afterward. “What the hell was that?” he demanded sharply. Johnny opened his mouth weakly before immediately shutting it again because honestly he had no explanation himself. Diego. That was the explanation. But how exactly was Johnny supposed saying that aloud without sounding completely insane? He bit a customer because touch no longer felt separate from Diego in his head anymore. Because panic had rewired itself directly into his nervous system now. Because every hand against his skin immediately became Diego’s hands somehow. Johnny dragged one trembling hand slowly across his face afterward. “I dunno…” he whispered hoarsely. Francesco stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t know?” He laughed once harshly beneath his breath afterward before pacing angrily near the bed. “The bastard could sue this place over that shit.” Johnny lowered his head shakily. Shame crawled violently through him now that panic finally began fading enough for reality settling back in. He really bit someone. Like an animal cornered too long. Johnny suddenly felt frightened of himself. Francesco eventually stopped pacing and looked toward him again more carefully this time. Johnny must have looked terrible because some of the anger left Francesco’s expression afterward replaced by uneasy confusion instead. “JoJo…” he muttered slower now. “What’s going on with you lately?” Johnny immediately thought about Diego again. Diego laughing quietly beneath dim lights. Diego’s fingers around his throat. Diego whispering humiliations against his ear while Johnny lay trapped beneath him upstairs. The memories hit hard enough to make Johnny physically tense again. Francesco noticed immediately. His eyes narrowed faintly afterward. “This about Brando?” The room went completely silent. Johnny stared downward toward the bedsheets without answering. Francesco sighed quietly beneath his breath afterward like suddenly understanding far more than Johnny wanted him understanding at all.

“Christ,” Francesco muttered tiredly while rubbing one hand across his face. “He really fucked you up.”

Johnny’s jaw tightened instantly hearing the sentence spoken aloud so casually. Shame flared violently through his chest afterward mixed with anger sharp enough to make his stomach hurt. Diego ruining him had become visible now apparently. Other people could see it. That realization felt humiliating in ways Johnny could barely endure. “Shut up,” he muttered coldly beneath his breath. Francesco surprisingly didn’t argue. He only leaned silently against the wall nearby while studying Johnny more carefully now beneath weak yellow lights. Johnny hated being looked at like this. Like something broken people were trying understanding after the damage already happened. He slowly wiped remaining blood from his mouth afterward using trembling fingers while nausea continued crawling through him in slow awful waves. The room smelled sharply metallic now. Johnny suddenly remembered again how hard he bit the customer. How immediate it felt. The memory frightened him badly enough that his chest tightened all over again. “I thought it was just the usual obsession bullshit,” Francesco admitted quietly after awhile. “Rich guy gets attached. Worker gets emotional. Happens all the damn time here.” Johnny laughed bitterly hearing that. Emotional. Right. If only Francesco understood how much deeper and uglier this actually was now. Diego hadn’t simply “gotten attached.” Diego crawled directly underneath Johnny’s skin somehow. Every insult. Every touch. Every horrible calm sentence still echoed endlessly inside his skull whether Diego physically stood inside the room or not. Johnny suddenly pressed both shaking hands hard against his eyes afterward trying stopping another panic spiral before it started. “I can still hear him,” he whispered quietly before realizing aloud what he’d just admitted. Silence followed immediately. Francesco stared at him strangely afterward. “Hear him?” Johnny slowly lowered his hands again. He looked exhausted now. Truly exhausted. Like somebody hollowed him out from the inside and left barely enough behind for survival afterward. “Everywhere,” Johnny muttered weakly. “Every damn thing reminds me’a him now.” Francesco didn’t interrupt this time. Johnny kept staring blankly toward the floor instead while words spilled out tiredly beneath his rough Southern drawl. “Somebody touches me an’ suddenly I think’a him. Somebody talks t’me wrong an’ I hear his voice.” Johnny swallowed hard afterward. “Even mirrors…” His throat tightened painfully. “Christ, even mirrors make me think’a him now.” Francesco’s expression slowly shifted from irritation toward something closer to genuine concern hearing that. Johnny noticed immediately and hated it. Pity felt unbearable now too. “Forget it,” Johnny muttered sharply afterward while dragging one hand angrily through his hair. “Doesn’t matter.” But it did matter. God, it mattered too much. Diego had poisoned every part of his life now. Johnny could barely survive ordinary human touch anymore without panicking violently. He wanted Diego dead for that. Truly dead. The thought arrived suddenly again sharp enough to make Johnny physically freeze afterward. Francesco noticed the expression crossing his face immediately. “Hey,” he muttered carefully now. “Don’t go somewhere weird in your head right now.” Johnny laughed softly hearing that. Too late. He’d already been somewhere dark for weeks now. Diego dragged him there personally. Silence settled heavily through the room afterward while weak yellow lights buzzed overhead and distant music downstairs leaked faintly through thin walls. Finally Francesco sighed again before pushing himself away from the wall. “Go sleep.” Johnny didn’t answer. Francesco paused near the doorway afterward before glancing back toward him one final time. “And JoJo?” Johnny looked up weakly. Francesco hesitated briefly. “Maybe stay away from Brando awhile.” Johnny almost laughed hearing that too. As if Diego was something avoidable anymore. As if Johnny could simply shut a door somewhere and finally escape him. Even alone inside silent rooms Diego still existed everywhere already.

Johnny still couldn’t fully forget the feeling of teeth sinking into flesh.

The memory kept returning at the worst moments now. Sometimes while smoking alone near the dressing room window. Sometimes while staring blankly at peeling wallpaper upstairs while distant laughter drifted through the floorboards beneath him. He would suddenly remember the taste of blood in his mouth and the look on the customer’s face afterward, and something cold would twist deep inside his chest again. The frightening part wasn’t even the violence itself anymore. It was how natural it had felt for those few seconds. Instinctive. Like panic had finally stripped something human away from him entirely. The days after that incident passed strangely quiet. Francesco stopped pushing customers onto Johnny for awhile, probably afraid another disaster would happen upstairs and cost him more money. Johnny didn’t complain. He spent most nights alone in the dressing room smoking too many cigarettes beneath weak yellow lights while staring everywhere except mirrors. Mirrors remained impossible now. Every reflection felt contaminated somehow. Every glimpse of pale blond hair and tired blue eyes immediately dragged Diego back into his skull again. Diego standing over him beneath black sheets. Diego’s cold voice calmly dissecting every ruined part left inside him. “You’re getting easier to touch.” God. Johnny hated him. Hated him so much it physically hurt some nights. And yet somehow the hatred itself felt exhausting now too, because Diego no longer existed only when physically present. He lingered afterward like poison spreading slowly through Johnny’s nervous system. Even silence reminded him of Diego now. Especially silence. Johnny sat slumped near the dressing room table one evening with an untouched glass beside him and cigarette smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling when Francesco suddenly walked inside again. Johnny barely looked up at first. Weak yellow lights buzzed overhead while downstairs piano music drifted faintly upward through thin walls. Francesco closed the door behind himself carefully this time. That alone made Johnny tense faintly. Then Johnny noticed the expression on Francesco’s face. Smiling. Not warmly, never warmly, but with the greedy satisfaction Johnny had learned recognizing immediately inside places like this. His stomach tightened before Francesco even spoke. “Guess who showed up again, JoJo.” Johnny’s fingers froze faintly around the cigarette. Francesco leaned casually against the doorway afterward, smile widening just slightly. “Mr. Brando came back.” The room suddenly felt colder. Johnny slowly lifted his head afterward and stared at Francesco silently for several long seconds like maybe he heard wrong somehow. Diego? Already? Johnny’s heartbeat immediately started climbing unpleasantly beneath his ribs. No. No, he didn’t want this. Didn’t want Diego anywhere near him tonight. The bastard was destroying him slowly and now Johnny finally understood that clearly enough to feel genuine fear over it. Diego touched everything inside his head now. Every humiliation. Every panic attack. Every moment Johnny couldn’t recognize himself in mirrors anymore without hearing Diego’s voice telling him exactly what he’d become. Francesco noticed the reaction immediately. “Relax,” he muttered dismissively. “He’s paying good money like always.” Johnny almost laughed hearing that because of course that was the important part. Money. Always money. Just days ago Francesco stood inside that same room warning Johnny staying near Brando was dangerous. “Maybe stay away from Brando awhile.” Johnny remembered every word clearly. So what changed now? Nothing except money. Diego returned carrying enough cash and suddenly every warning disappeared again like it never mattered in the first place. Johnny slowly looked away afterward while nausea curled sharply through his stomach.

The realization hit harder than Johnny wanted admitting.

Francesco really was no different from anybody else inside this building. Not kinder. Not more trustworthy. Just another greedy bastard willing selling pieces of people for enough money. Johnny suddenly remembered with sharp humiliation the night he broke down in front of Francesco after biting the customer. The shaking hands. The exhausted confession. “I can still hear him.” God. Johnny wished he could tear those words back out of the air now. Francesco had seen too much that night. Seen weakness Johnny never should have shown anybody inside a place like this. That thought alone made panic stir faintly inside his chest again. Because now Francesco understood exactly where pressing hardest would hurt him. Johnny slowly shook his head almost automatically afterward. “No,” he muttered quickly beneath his breath. Francesco raised one eyebrow. “No?” Johnny forced himself straighter in the chair despite exhaustion weighing heavily through him. “I ain’t seein’ him tonight.” His rough Southern drawl sounded thinner than usual now. Less convincing. Francesco’s smile faded almost immediately hearing that. “Don’t start this shit again, JoJo.” Johnny’s stomach twisted harder. Francesco stepped further into the room afterward while cigarette smoke drifted lazily between them beneath weak yellow lights. “The man pays triple what anybody else leaves behind.” Johnny looked away silently. Triple. Of course he did. Diego always bought whatever he wanted eventually. Horses. Victories. People. Francesco sighed impatiently afterward before continuing quieter now. “Look, whatever weird obsession’s going on between you two ain’t my business.” Johnny physically flinched hearing obsession. If only it were that simple. “But don’t screw this up for me tonight.” Johnny’s jaw tightened immediately. Screw this up for me. Not are you okay. Not maybe this is unhealthy. Just money again. Always money. The realization hollowed something inside him even further. He suddenly understood with awful clarity that nobody here would protect him from Diego no matter what happened upstairs between them. Not Francesco. Not anyone. As long as Diego kept leaving enough cash behind, they would happily wheel Johnny straight back into those dark rooms over and over until nothing remained recognizable inside him anymore. Fear crawled coldly beneath Johnny’s skin afterward because part of him already knew Diego would absolutely do exactly that if allowed. Diego enjoyed watching him deteriorate. He admitted it openly. “Watching you dismantle yourself is fascinating.” Johnny shut his eyes hard for one second hearing the sentence echo again through memory. Francesco mistook the silence for stubbornness and clicked his tongue irritably. “Jesus Christ, JoJo. You act like I’m sending you to die.” Johnny almost laughed hearing that too because somehow Francesco still didn’t understand. Diego wouldn’t kill him physically. That wasn’t the danger anymore. The real horror was slower than death. Diego kept peeling pieces away from him every visit until Johnny barely recognized himself afterward. Mirrors already felt unbearable now. Touch felt unbearable. Human voices felt unbearable sometimes. What exactly would remain after another few months of this? Johnny genuinely didn’t know anymore. Francesco stepped closer afterward and lowered his voice slightly. “Don’t be stupid. Men like Brando don’t stick around forever.” Johnny slowly looked up hearing that. Francesco shrugged casually. “Take the money while it lasts.” The sentence made something inside Johnny feel genuinely sick. Because that was exactly the problem. Diego wasn’t leaving. Johnny knew that already deep down in places he wished staying numb forever instead.

Johnny pulled the red lace dress over himself slowly, fingers stiff and tired against the thin fabric while weak yellow lights buzzed overhead in the dressing room. The material barely covered anything. It clung obscenely against pale skin and hung far too short over his thighs, cheap enough that every tiny movement threatened exposing more. Francesco probably picked it intentionally. Johnny no longer cared enough fighting about clothes anymore. Fighting about anything inside this place felt pointless now. He left his blond hair messy exactly the way it already was, damp strands hanging unevenly near exhausted blue eyes shadowed dark from sleepless nights. He never once looked toward the cracked mirror beside him while getting ready. Not once. Mirrors made nausea crawl through him lately. Every reflection started feeling wrong somehow. Distorted. Like if Johnny stared too long, Diego’s face would eventually appear behind his own. Diego’s voice already existed everywhere else inside his skull anyway. Weak. Pathetic. Whore. Johnny gripped the wheelchair wheels harder afterward and rolled himself slowly toward the upstairs hallway instead, shoulders tight beneath the cold air. The corridor stayed dim and narrow around him while distant drunken laughter drifted faintly upward from downstairs. Everything inside this building felt rotten now. Suffocating. By the time Johnny finally reached the black room again, dread already sat thick and heavy inside his stomach. He pushed the door open slowly afterward and immediately saw Diego waiting near the bed through drifting cigarette smoke. Johnny froze near the doorway. Diego sat there exactly the same as always — turquoise sweater stretched neatly across his chest beneath yellow striped lines, beige gloves still covering pale hands, beige riding pants tucked into polished brown boots. The black belt around his waist gleamed faintly beneath the dim yellow lights, DIO visible coldly across the buckle. Diego looked untouched by everything around him. Like this place itself physically could not stain him no matter how often he walked through it. Johnny hated that more than words could explain. Diego’s green eyes lifted lazily toward him afterward while smoke curled upward near his face. He looked Johnny over slowly from head to toe. The red lace. The pale legs. The exhaustion. Then Diego smiled faintly around the cigarette. Mean. Amused. Cruel enough making Johnny’s chest tighten instantly. “Look at you,” Diego murmured softly in that clipped British accent while exhaling smoke sideways through the room. “Francesco’s dressing you like a discount little prostitute now.” Johnny immediately looked away toward the floor without answering. The silence only seemed amusing Diego further. “Red doesn’t suit you,” Diego continued calmly. “Makes you look cheaper somehow. Which is impressive considering your current profession.” Johnny’s fingers tightened painfully around the wheelchair handles afterward.

Johnny quietly shut the door behind himself afterward and stayed near it instead of rolling further into the room. He didn’t want getting closer tonight. Didn’t want smelling cigarette smoke and expensive cologne stronger than he already could. Diego noticed the hesitation immediately of course. He always noticed everything. “I heard you bit somebody,” Diego said casually after another drag from the cigarette. Johnny instantly felt his stomach twist. Francesco talked too much. That greasy bastard probably told Diego every detail already. Johnny kept staring toward the dark floorboards silently instead of reacting. Diego watched him another moment before laughing quietly beneath his breath. “How animalistic.” Smoke drifted lazily upward around him beneath the weak yellow lights while his cold eyes remained fixed directly on Johnny’s face. “Did the customer frighten you that badly?” Johnny’s jaw tightened hard hearing it phrased like that. Diego tilted his head slightly afterward. “Or was it instinct?” Silence stretched heavily afterward. Johnny refused looking at him. Refused speaking. Diego leaned back slightly near the bed, cigarette glowing faintly between gloved fingers. “Francesco said the man screamed loud enough bringing half the upstairs running.” Another faint laugh escaped him. “Embarrassing.” Johnny hated how calm Diego sounded discussing it. Like humiliation itself entertained him. Diego’s gaze drifted slowly downward afterward toward Johnny’s red dress again. “You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, “most people working here eventually learn how separating themselves from the job.” His eyes lifted back toward Johnny’s face. “You seem getting worse instead.” Johnny swallowed hard against the irritation climbing his throat. Diego continued anyway. “That’s probably because deep down you still think this degradation means something.” Another slow drag from the cigarette followed. “You still react emotionally every time somebody touches you.” Johnny’s fingers trembled faintly against the wheelchair handles afterward. Diego noticed immediately. Of course he did. “Interesting,” Diego murmured softly. “You’re starting trembling before anyone even puts hands on you now.” Johnny suddenly wished violently he could leave the room entirely. But Francesco would absolutely notice if he tried. Diego watched him silently several more seconds before smiling again. Worse this time. Colder. “Tell me something, Joestar.” His voice lowered quieter afterward beneath the buzzing lights. “When you bit that customer… did you imagine it was me?” Johnny froze instantly. His chest tightened painfully enough making breathing uncomfortable for a second. Diego saw the reaction immediately and laughed softly beneath his breath afterward. “Ah.” He crushed ash slowly into the tray beside himself. “So that’s what this is.” Johnny wanted smashing something over his face suddenly. Instead he only lowered his eyes harder toward the floor while silence swallowed the room again around them.

Diego remained seated for several long moments afterward while slowly smoking beneath the dim yellow lights, watching Johnny with the same detached amusement somebody might use studying an injured animal too weak escaping properly. Johnny stayed near the door completely silent, shoulders tense beneath the thin red lace clinging embarrassingly against pale skin. The dress barely covered him sitting down. Diego’s eyes lingered there deliberately before drifting upward again. “You look like you’re going to throw up tonight,” Diego murmured casually. Johnny immediately stiffened hearing it. Diego smiled faintly around the cigarette afterward. “Don’t bother pretending otherwise.” The smoke curled lazily through the black room while weak buzzing lights cast sharp shadows across Diego’s face. He looked monstrous somehow sitting there so perfectly composed. Johnny hated that calmness more than shouting. Diego leaned one elbow against his knee afterward while still watching him carefully. “I wonder,” he murmured thoughtfully, “if you’ve finally started understanding something.” Johnny kept his gaze lowered stubbornly toward the floorboards. “You used hating me more openly.” Another pause followed. “Now you mostly just look frightened.” Johnny’s stomach twisted violently hearing that spoken aloud. Diego exhaled another stream of smoke afterward before continuing calmly: “That customer downstairs probably touched you the same way everyone else here does.” His eyes narrowed faintly toward Johnny afterward. “Yet somehow your mind still dragged itself back toward me first.” Johnny’s breathing became uneven for half a second hearing that. Diego noticed immediately. “Pathetic.” The word landed softly between them. Quiet. Effortless. Cruel. Johnny gripped the wheelchair harder afterward while heat burned beneath his skin from humiliation and anger both. Diego watched the reaction with visible amusement. “You’re deteriorating faster than I expected,” he murmured. “A few more months and you probably won’t even distinguish customers apart anymore.” Johnny shut his eyes briefly hearing it. God. Diego’s voice already existed inside his skull constantly enough without hearing it aloud too. Diego suddenly stood up afterward. Johnny immediately stiffened harder seeing movement from the corner of his eye. Diego noticed at once. That alone made his mouth curve faintly again. “Whore,” Diego murmured softly while stepping closer across dark wooden floors. “I love seeing you like this. You carry patheticness with you everywhere you go, Joestar.” Johnny forced himself remaining still despite panic beginning crawling beneath his ribs. Diego stopped directly in front of the wheelchair afterward, towering over him beneath the weak yellow lighting while cigarette smoke drifted between them. “You flinch before I even touch you now.” Johnny hated how true it felt. Diego slowly removed the cigarette from his mouth afterward and tilted his head slightly down toward him. “Do you know what that means?” Silence. Johnny refused answering. Diego leaned slightly closer anyway. “It means I’ve gotten underneath your skin deeply enough that your body reacts before your pride does.” Johnny’s stomach turned sick instantly hearing it phrased that way. Diego looked genuinely entertained by the disgust crossing Johnny’s face afterward.

Johnny kept staring toward the floor afterward while Diego remained standing directly in front of him beneath the weak yellow lighting. The silence inside the room felt suffocating now. Diego still hadn’t removed his gloves. Hadn’t touched him. Somehow that made everything worse. Johnny could feel Diego observing every tiny reaction anyway. “You know what Francesco told me?” Diego asked eventually while flicking ash carelessly toward the tray beside him. Johnny remained motionless. “He said you’ve stopped eating properly again.” Diego’s voice sounded almost conversational. Casual enough making the cruelty sharper somehow. “Apparently you sit upstairs staring at walls half the night now too.” Another pause followed. “That’s concerning.” Johnny’s jaw tightened painfully. Diego laughed softly afterward. “Not because anybody cares about you obviously.” His green eyes lowered slowly across Johnny again. “But damaged merchandise tends upsetting customers.” Johnny felt humiliation burn violently through his chest hearing himself reduced that way aloud. Diego noticed instantly. “There’s the expression.” He leaned slightly closer afterward while smoke curled faintly between them. “You still hate hearing the truth spoken directly.” Johnny wanted him dead suddenly. Wanted smashing the ashtray into his face until that calm expression disappeared permanently. Diego continued anyway. “You know what I think?” His voice lowered softer beneath the buzzing lights overhead. “I think you’re finally beginning understanding what you actually became.” Johnny’s breathing turned shallow again. Diego’s eyes drifted deliberately toward the lace dress clinging against his thighs. “You stopped looking like Johnny Joestar awhile ago.” The sentence landed inside the room heavily enough making Johnny feel physically ill. Diego’s mouth curved faintly again afterward. “Now you mostly just look like something people rent upstairs.” Johnny shut his eyes tightly for one second hearing that. Diego noticed. “Does that upset you?” he asked softly. “Because honestly… I’m surprised you lasted this long before breaking apart mentally.” Johnny remained silent. Diego studied him carefully afterward before giving another low almost thoughtful laugh beneath his breath. “Maybe the real problem is that somewhere inside your head you still think you’re temporary here.” His gloved fingers tapped lightly against the cigarette afterward. “You still imagine this version of yourself ending eventually.” Another pause followed beneath the weak yellow lights. “But it won’t.” Johnny’s chest tightened violently hearing that sentence. Diego saw it immediately. “You look miserable.” His voice stayed calm. “I can see your fear.” Johnny finally looked toward him sharply after that despite himself. Diego’s expression remained completely cold. “Good,” he murmured quietly. “At least you’re honest with your face even if your mouth stays uselessly stubborn.”

Diego finally moved again afterward, stepping slowly past the wheelchair toward the bed while Johnny remained frozen near the door trying forcing his breathing steady again. The black room felt darker tonight somehow. Smaller. Diego sat back down near the edge of the mattress afterward and stretched one arm lazily across his knee while finishing the cigarette. He still looked perfectly composed beneath the weak yellow lighting. Like none of this dirtied him at all. Johnny hated that so much it physically hurt. Diego glanced toward him again through drifting smoke. “Come here.” The command came soft. Casual. Johnny immediately felt nausea twist inside his stomach hearing it. He didn’t move. Diego waited several silent seconds afterward before laughing quietly beneath his breath. “You really are becoming difficult lately.” Johnny kept staring toward the floor. Diego’s expression darkened faintly afterward. “Don’t misunderstand your position here, Joestar.” His voice lowered colder now. “Francesco only keeps you upstairs because I pay enough making you worthwhile.” Another drag from the cigarette followed. “Without that, you’d already be downstairs getting passed between drunken strangers nightly.” Johnny felt his stomach turn violently hearing it spoken that bluntly. Diego watched him carefully. “So honestly?” Another faint cruel smile touched his mouth afterward. “You should probably feel grateful whenever I walk through that door.” Johnny’s fingers tightened painfully against the wheelchair handles again. Diego noticed instantly. “Still angry.” His eyes lowered thoughtfully toward Johnny afterward. “Interesting considering how frightened you’ve gotten.” Silence stretched heavily again beneath buzzing yellow lights. Then Diego slowly crushed the cigarette into the ashtray beside himself and leaned back slightly against the mattress. “Come closer,” he repeated softly. Johnny stayed frozen several seconds afterward before finally forcing the wheelchair forward a small amount. The movement looked reluctant enough making Diego laugh quietly again. “God.” Diego shook his head faintly beneath the dim light. “You really do look like a kicked dog now.” Johnny’s face burned immediately hearing it. Diego leaned one elbow lazily against his knee while watching him approach inch by inch. “I almost miss when you still had enough pride trying fighting back properly.” Another pause followed. “Now mostly you just look exhausted.” Johnny stopped several feet away from the bed afterward and lowered his eyes again silently. Diego watched him another long moment before speaking one final time. “Tell me something, Joestar.” His voice softened dangerously beneath the weak buzzing lights overhead. “When you lie awake at night lately…” A faint cruel amusement touched his expression afterward. “Is it my voice you hear first or your own?”

Johnny did not answer the question. He just stayed there in the wheelchair beneath the weak yellow lights with his head slightly lowered while Diego sat comfortably on the edge of the black bed smoking like none of this room could ever touch him. Johnny’s hands rested tightly against the wheels beside him, fingers stiff enough that the knuckles had gone pale. He could still feel Diego watching him. That calm horrible stare crawling across his face and shoulders like cold fingers. Johnny hated it. Hated the silence too because silence around Diego always became dangerous eventually. The room smelled thickly of cigarette smoke now mixed with expensive cologne and old sweat trapped deep inside dark sheets. Johnny’s chest felt tight again. He refused looking directly at Diego. Refused giving him another reaction. But shame still crawled violently through him anyway. That was the worst part. Diego talking to him like this hurt differently because Diego knew him from before. Before upstairs rooms. Before red lace dresses. Before strangers touched him for money. Diego had seen Johnny Joestar standing proudly beside horses and cameras once. Seen him screaming during races. Seen him furious and arrogant and alive. And now Diego sat smoking on a bed while Johnny stayed half naked in front of him looking too ashamed even meeting his eyes. Johnny hated him so much for witnessing both versions. Diego suddenly took another slow drag from the cigarette before speaking again through drifting smoke. “Look what I found, whore.” Johnny’s stomach tightened immediately hearing the word again. Slowly — reluctantly — he finally lifted his eyes toward Diego. Diego held an old photograph loosely between gloved fingers beneath the dim yellow lights. Johnny froze. His heartbeat immediately started pounding harder inside his chest the second he recognized it. Steel Ball Run. The old picture looked slightly bent around the corners now, worn with age. Johnny stared at it silently while nausea twisted unpleasantly through him. Gyro stood beside him in the photograph grinning broadly beneath sunlight while Johnny himself looked younger somehow. Cleaner. Happier. Diego noticed Johnny staring too long and smiled faintly around the cigarette. Mean. Mocking. “What?” Diego murmured softly. “Does it bother you?” Johnny’s throat tightened painfully. Diego slowly looked back toward the picture afterward before continuing calmly: “You looked different back then.” Another drag from the cigarette followed. “Still human, maybe.” Johnny instantly felt heat rise beneath his skin hearing that. Diego’s eyes slid lazily back toward him. “And now?” A cruel little smile touched his mouth afterward. “Now you’re just a prostitute upstairs wearing lace for strangers.” Johnny’s breathing turned uneven hearing it spoken that bluntly beside the old photograph still dangling between Diego’s fingers.

Johnny could not stop staring at the photograph even though every second looking at it made him feel worse. Gyro’s face sat frozen there beneath sunlight and dust from another life entirely. Johnny barely recognized himself anymore either. The boy in that picture looked angry and reckless and proud in ways that physically hurt remembering now. Diego watched him silently for several moments afterward while smoke drifted lazily upward around the room. Then Diego laughed quietly beneath his breath. “You know what the funniest part is?” he murmured softly. Johnny finally dragged his eyes away from the photograph toward the floor again. Diego continued anyway. “You spent all that time back then pretending you hated losing to me.” Another pause followed. “But look at you now.” Johnny’s stomach twisted tighter. Diego lifted another photograph afterward between gloved fingers. “Here.” He tilted it slightly toward Johnny beneath the dim yellow lights. “Do you remember this?” Johnny reluctantly looked again despite himself. Another Steel Ball Run photograph. Diego standing at the finish line smirking toward the cameras while Johnny sat further behind visibly furious. Johnny immediately remembered the day. Remembered the humiliation boiling through him watching Diego win again. Diego noticed recognition crossing Johnny’s face instantly. “There it is,” he murmured softly. “That expression.” Diego exhaled smoke sideways while still holding the picture carelessly. “You were crying because I beat you.” His mouth curved faintly afterward. “And now you’re underneath me instead.” Johnny’s breath caught sharply hearing it phrased that way. Diego kept going calmly. “It’s almost poetic honestly.” Another quiet laugh escaped him. “No matter where life drags you, I still end up above you eventually.” Johnny’s chest started tightening hard enough making breathing uncomfortable. Diego’s voice sounded smooth and casual beneath the buzzing yellow lights, which somehow made the cruelty worse. “Every race.” Another pause. “Every room.” Diego’s green eyes remained fixed directly on Johnny afterward. “Every version of your life ends the same way.” Johnny suddenly wanted smashing the photographs apart. Wanted ripping them from Diego’s hands and burning them until nothing remained. Diego slowly leaned back slightly on the bed afterward while still studying him. “You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, “Francesco didn’t even understand why I found these entertaining.” Johnny remained completely silent. Diego smiled colder afterward. “But I do.” His eyes drifted deliberately downward across Johnny’s red lace dress. “Because seeing what you became after all that pride…” Another drag from the cigarette followed. “Feels satisfying.” Johnny’s breathing kept growing shallower now. He hated this. Hated Diego touching those memories with the same hands he used touching him upstairs. It felt filthy somehow.

The room had gone almost completely silent except for the faint crackle of Diego’s cigarette burning slowly between gloved fingers. Johnny could barely hear the muffled piano music downstairs anymore over the pounding inside his chest. Diego still held the old photographs casually while watching him with that same cold detached amusement twisting faintly behind his eyes. Like he enjoyed peeling pieces off Johnny slowly just seeing what remained underneath afterward. Johnny hated him. God, he hated him enough feeling physically painful. Diego tilted the second photograph slightly beneath the dim yellow lights while looking down at it almost thoughtfully. “You remember this race?” he asked softly. Johnny said nothing. Diego continued anyway because of course he did. “You spent the entire day glaring at me afterward.” Another faint laugh escaped him. “You really believed losing to me was the worst thing that could happen to you back then.” Johnny’s hands tightened harder around the wheelchair wheels. Diego noticed immediately. “Poor Joestar.” His voice stayed smooth and cruel. “You had no imagination.” Johnny’s stomach twisted violently. Diego slowly looked up from the photograph afterward and studied Johnny another long moment. “Imagine letting Gyro see you like this every night.” The sentence landed inside the room like broken glass. Johnny instantly stiffened hearing Gyro’s name spoken aloud here. Diego saw the reaction immediately and smiled. “Ah.” Another drag from the cigarette followed. “That one hurts more.” Johnny wanted him stopping. Wanted Diego shutting his damn mouth already. But Diego kept speaking calmly through the smoke. “Should I tell him?” he asked softly. “Hm?” Johnny’s breathing suddenly felt uneven again. Diego leaned slightly forward on the bed afterward, green eyes colder now beneath the weak yellow lighting. “Maybe I should track him down someday.” Another pause followed. “Tell him Johnny Joestar sells himself upstairs in filthy rooms now.” Johnny’s chest tightened painfully enough that he physically flinched. Diego saw it instantly. “There it is.” His smile widened slightly afterward. “Fear again.” Johnny’s jaw clenched hard enough hurting. Diego tilted his head lazily while studying him. “Do you think he’d pity you?” he asked quietly. “Or would he just look disappointed?” Johnny suddenly felt sick enough throwing up. Diego’s voice crawled deeper underneath his skin every second now. “Honestly…” Diego exhaled another stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “I think he’d feel embarrassed knowing somebody who used standing beside him ended up like this.” Johnny’s breathing broke unevenly afterward. Diego’s eyes narrowed faintly seeing it. “Interesting.” Another pause followed beneath the buzzing yellow lights overhead. “You react more strongly whenever people from your old life get mentioned.” Johnny finally looked toward him sharply then. Furious. Breathing shallow. Diego only looked entertained seeing it.

Johnny’s chest kept rising unevenly afterward while Diego calmly rested the photographs beside himself against the dark sheets. The cigarette still glowed faintly between his gloved fingers beneath the weak yellow lighting. Everything inside the room suddenly felt smaller. Hotter. Diego had dragged Steel Ball Run itself into this filthy upstairs room somehow and Johnny wanted screaming at him for it. Those photographs didn’t belong here. Gyro didn’t belong here. None of it did. Diego watched him another long moment before speaking again. “You know what your real problem is?” Johnny stared at him silently through burning humiliation and anger. Diego leaned back slightly against the bed afterward while exhaling smoke upward lazily. “You still think your old life mattered enough protecting.” Another pause followed. “But nobody from back then is coming for you, Joestar.” Johnny’s stomach twisted violently hearing it. Diego’s mouth curved faintly again afterward. “Nobody even knows where you are.” Silence swallowed the room again except for weak buzzing lights overhead. Then softly Diego added: “And honestly?” His eyes drifted deliberately across Johnny’s body again. “Maybe it’s better that way.” Johnny immediately felt rage burn hotter beneath his ribs. Diego kept speaking anyway. “At least they can still remember you before you turned into this.” The sentence landed brutally flat inside the dark room. Johnny’s breathing started turning rougher now. Diego noticed everything. “Look at you.” Another faint laugh escaped him. “You can barely even breathe correctly anymore.” Johnny’s nails dug painfully into his palms. Diego remained perfectly calm through all of it. “I suppose I should feel grateful though.” His eyes lowered toward the lace dress again. “Steel Ball Run never would’ve given me this version of Johnny Joestar.” Johnny suddenly felt something snap unpleasantly inside his chest hearing that. Diego tilted his head slightly afterward while studying him carefully. “You know what’s funny?” he murmured softly. “Back then you always looked at me like you thought I was beneath you somehow.” Another pause followed beneath drifting smoke. “Now you won’t even look me in the eye properly.” Johnny’s throat burned. Diego smiled colder seeing it. “That’s growth, I suppose.” Johnny’s breathing kept getting shallower every second now. He hated this room. Hated Diego. Hated those photographs lying casually against black sheets beside cigarette ash and lace and everything else rotten upstairs. Diego reached down afterward and lightly tapped one photograph with gloved fingers. “This version of you is dead,” he said quietly. “You understand that now, don’t you?”

Johnny stared at him for several long seconds afterward while rage and humiliation twisted violently together inside his chest. Diego remained seated calmly on the edge of the bed beneath the weak yellow lighting, cigarette smoke curling lazily around his face while old photographs from Steel Ball Run rested beside him like trophies dragged somewhere filthy intentionally. Johnny hated him. Hated him so much suddenly that his entire body felt hot with it. Diego tilted his head slightly afterward, still waiting silently for another reaction. That expression alone finally pushed something over the edge inside Johnny. Slowly he rolled the wheelchair slightly closer toward the bed. The movement was small but enough making Diego’s eyes narrow faintly with interest. Johnny’s breathing remained uneven while he stared directly toward him now for the first time in several minutes. “What?” Diego murmured softly around the cigarette. “Finally found your voice again?” Johnny’s hands tightened against the wheels one last time afterward before the words finally came out low and rough through clenched teeth. “At least I had people.” Diego’s expression shifted faintly. Johnny kept staring directly at him now despite the anger burning through his chest hard enough hurting. “Before all this?” His voice stayed quieter than usual somehow, which made it sharper. “I had a family.” Another breath followed. “People loved me before Steel Ball Run.” Diego’s face remained unreadable for one second too long. Johnny noticed immediately. Good. Finally. The rage inside him twisted uglier afterward. “But you?” Johnny’s mouth curled bitterly. “Your whore mother died when you were little.” Silence hit the room instantly. Johnny kept staring directly at him now. “Nobody wanted you.” The words landed flat beneath the weak buzzing yellow lights overhead. Then Johnny saw it.

For the very first time since entering the room tonight, Diego Brando looked like he had genuinely lost control of his expression.

The change in Diego’s face lasted only a second, but it was enough. Johnny saw it immediately. Something cold and restrained inside Diego had cracked open beneath the weak yellow lights, and suddenly the entire room felt wrong. Dangerous in a way it had not felt before. Diego stood up from the edge of the bed slowly without saying a word. Too slowly. That calmness terrified Johnny more than shouting would have. The cigarette slipped quietly from Diego’s gloved fingers onto the dark floorboards, the ember still glowing faintly in the silence. Then Diego crushed it beneath the heel of his brown boot without taking his eyes off Johnny. The sound was soft. Small. But Johnny’s stomach twisted violently hearing it anyway. Diego did not rush toward him. That was the worst part. He walked toward the chair nearby instead with slow measured steps while the black room stayed suffocatingly quiet around them. Johnny suddenly became aware of his own breathing sounding uneven. Too loud. Diego reached the chair and began removing his beige gloves one finger at a time with unbearable patience. Johnny watched silently despite himself. Every movement looked controlled. Deliberate. Like Diego was carefully stripping away anything that might get in his way. The gloves landed neatly onto the chair afterward. Then Diego’s hand moved toward the black belt around his waist. The metallic buckle loosened quietly beneath the dim yellow lights. Johnny’s chest tightened harder seeing it. Diego pulled the belt free slowly, folding it once in his hands almost absently before tossing it aside beside the gloves. The room had gone completely silent now except for the weak buzzing overhead. Johnny suddenly realized he was frightened. Truly frightened. Not angry anymore. Not humiliated. Afraid. Diego finally turned back toward him after that. His expression looked horrifyingly empty now. No amusement. No smirking cruelty. Nothing. Then he started walking toward Johnny again. Slow. Calm. Certain. Johnny instinctively gripped the wheelchair tighter while panic started crawling violently through his chest. Something inside him screamed to leave. To run. But there was nowhere to go upstairs. Diego stopped directly in front of him afterward, towering over the wheelchair beneath the weak yellow lights while shadows cut sharply across his face. Johnny barely had time inhaling before Diego’s fist came down hard enough sending the world sideways instantly.

The impact exploded across Johnny’s face so violently that he barely understood what happened at first. One second Diego stood over him silent beneath the dim yellow lighting — the next Johnny was falling sideways out of the wheelchair with pain bursting hot through his skull. The floor slammed hard against his shoulder and hip while dizziness blurred the room instantly around him. Johnny gasped sharply in shock more than pain at first, blond hair falling messily across his face while his heartbeat thundered inside his ears. Diego did not speak. That terrified Johnny more than anything. No insults. No mocking laughter. Just silence. Johnny barely managed lifting one arm defensively before Diego grabbed him hard by the collar of the red lace dress and yanked him upward enough punching him again. Another brutal crack split through the room. Johnny cried out instantly this time, panic exploding violently through him while his hands shoved weakly against Diego’s chest trying escaping. Diego felt immovable. The next hit landed harder. Then another. Johnny’s thoughts started breaking apart beneath the fear. He tried fighting back blindly between blows, swinging wildly toward Diego’s face, shoulders, anything he could reach — but Diego caught his wrist effortlessly and slammed him back against the floor hard enough making the breath vanish from Johnny’s lungs completely. The room tilted sickeningly around him beneath the yellow lights. Diego climbed over him afterward, one knee pressing heavily against Johnny’s stomach while his fist crashed down again. Johnny screamed this time. Real fear tore through him now, ugly and helpless and humiliating. He tried shielding his face with shaking arms while tears burned hot through his vision almost immediately. Diego kept hitting him anyway. The punches came methodically. Controlled. Worse because Diego never looked frantic while doing it. His expression stayed terrifyingly cold above Johnny beneath the weak yellow lighting while blood smeared across pale knuckles and torn red lace. Johnny’s ears rang violently now. Every breath hurt. He could taste blood in his mouth already while panic clawed deeper and deeper through his chest. “Diego—” The name broke out of him without thinking. Diego’s eyes darkened instantly hearing it. Then another punch split across Johnny’s mouth hard enough sending his head snapping sideways against the floorboards. Johnny cried out again, body twisting desperately underneath him trying escaping, but Diego grabbed him harshly by the blond hair and dragged him across the floor toward the bed while Johnny gasped and clawed weakly at Diego’s wrist in terror.

Johnny’s body slammed hard against the side of the bed before Diego threw him upward onto the mattress like he weighed nothing. The black sheets twisted violently beneath him while pain exploded through his ribs and shoulder all over again. Johnny barely managed pushing himself halfway upright before Diego climbed onto the bed after him immediately. Then another punch crashed directly into Johnny’s face. Johnny screamed. The sound ripped out of him raw and terrified before breaking apart into choking breaths. Diego hit him again before he could recover. Then again. Every strike came harder than the last until Johnny could no longer tell where the pain started or ended anymore. His vision blurred violently beneath the weak yellow lights while blood smeared across his mouth and chin, dripping onto the dark sheets beneath him. Johnny tried fighting back between blows anyway. Pure instinct. Panic. His shaking hands clawed desperately toward Diego’s face, neck, shoulders — anywhere — but Diego caught both wrists with brutal ease and slammed them hard into the mattress above Johnny’s head. “Thought you were brave a minute ago,” Diego said quietly at last. That calm voice terrified Johnny worse now than shouting ever could. Diego’s breathing had grown heavier, but his face still looked horrifyingly controlled beneath the dim light. “Keep talking now.” Johnny shook violently beneath him, trying to wrench his arms free while tears blurred his vision harder. “S-Stop—” he gasped brokenly. Diego ignored him completely. Another hit split across Johnny’s cheekbone hard enough making white light burst behind his eyes. Johnny cried out again, body jerking helplessly beneath Diego’s weight. Fear swallowed him completely now. Not anger. Not hatred. Just survival. Diego leaned closer afterward, blond hair falling slightly into his face while his green eyes stayed empty and cold. “You wanted to speak about my mother?” he murmured softly. Johnny immediately realized his mistake fully then. Too late. Diego’s fist drove hard into Johnny’s stomach suddenly hard enough forcing a horrible choking sound from him. Pain folded violently through his body while he curled instinctively beneath Diego trying breathe. Diego grabbed his hair again immediately afterward and forced Johnny’s head backward hard enough exposing his throat beneath the weak yellow lights. “Say it again,” Diego whispered. Johnny shook uncontrollably beneath him while tears spilled freely down his bruised face now. He could not breathe properly anymore. Could barely think. Diego looked terrifying above him. Not human anymore. Something colder. Something hollow wearing Diego Brando’s face.

Johnny tried speaking but nothing came out except broken gasps and choking breaths. His chest burned violently now every time he inhaled while Diego’s hand stayed tangled brutally in his blond hair forcing his head backward against the mattress. The black room had become a nightmare around him — yellow lights buzzing overhead, sheets twisted beneath blood and sweat, Diego’s shadow swallowing almost everything else. Johnny could barely see properly anymore through the tears clouding his vision. One eye already swelling shut from the repeated blows. “Look at you,” Diego murmured softly. Calmly. That calmness made Johnny want screaming. “You provoke people until they finally hurt you.” Another punch slammed directly into Johnny’s ribs hard enough something cracked beneath the impact. Johnny screamed instantly, body folding violently sideways beneath Diego while agony tore through his chest sharp enough making him nearly vomit. Diego grabbed him again before he could collapse fully, dragging him upright by the hair like Johnny weighed nothing at all. “Then when it finally happens,” Diego continued coldly near Johnny’s ear, “you start crying like a frightened animal.” Johnny shook helplessly beneath him trying shove Diego away with trembling arms. His hands felt weak now. Numb. Diego hit him again across the mouth hard enough blood sprayed across both of them. Johnny’s head rang violently afterward. The room tilted sickeningly sideways while panic consumed him completely. “Please—” The word escaped before Johnny could stop it. Diego froze for half a second hearing it. Then slowly his grip tightened harder in Johnny’s hair. “There it is,” Diego whispered almost thoughtfully. “Finally.” Johnny hated himself instantly for saying it. Shame burned through him beneath the terror while tears kept spilling uncontrollably down his bruised face. Diego studied him silently afterward beneath the dim yellow lights. Johnny looked destroyed already — split lip, blood across his jaw and throat, red lace dress hanging torn from one shoulder while his entire body trembled helplessly against the sheets. Diego’s eyes drifted slowly across the damage. Detached. Observing. Like examining something broken open in front of him. Then he hit Johnny again. Harder. Johnny’s scream cracked apart into sobbing afterward while he curled desperately against the mattress trying protect his face. Diego grabbed him by the throat immediately and forced him flat onto his back again. “No,” Diego said softly. “You wanted my attention.” His fingers tightened around Johnny’s neck. “Now you have it.”

The pressure around Johnny’s throat made panic explode through him completely. He clawed desperately at Diego’s wrist while trying dragging air into burning lungs, but Diego barely moved beneath his struggling. Johnny’s nails scraped uselessly against pale skin while Diego pinned him effortlessly into the mattress beneath the weak yellow lights. Tears blurred Johnny’s vision completely now. His entire body shook violently from pain and terror alike while blood smeared beneath him across the black sheets. Diego looked monstrous above him. Not furious. Not wild. Worse. Controlled. Empty. “You should’ve kept your mouth shut,” Diego murmured softly while tightening his grip just enough making Johnny choke harder. Johnny tried speaking through it. Tried saying Diego’s name again. Nothing came out except broken gasping noises. Diego watched him silently for several long seconds beneath the dim yellow lighting. Then suddenly he released Johnny’s throat only long enough punching him directly across the jaw again. Johnny cried out instantly while pain burst through his skull hard enough everything flashed white. Diego hit him again before he recovered. Then again. Johnny lost count after that. His body jerked violently beneath every impact while desperate sobbing tore uncontrollably from his chest now. He hated himself for crying. Hated how weak he sounded. But the fear had swallowed everything else entirely. Diego finally dragged Johnny halfway upright afterward only to slam him backward hard against the headboard. The wood cracked loudly beneath the force. Johnny screamed again. His body barely responded properly anymore. Every limb felt heavy and wrong beneath the agony flooding through him. Diego leaned closer afterward, breathing harder now though his expression remained horrifyingly calm. “You really thought mentioning my mother was clever?” he asked quietly. Johnny shook uncontrollably beneath him. Diego’s eyes darkened seeing it. “Answer me.” Johnny tried speaking through the sobbing catching painfully in his throat. “I-I didn’t—” Another strike cut him off immediately. Blood splattered across Diego’s knuckles this time. Johnny’s head lolled sideways afterward while dizziness swallowed him deeper and deeper. Diego grabbed his jaw harshly forcing him look forward again. “Pathetic,” Diego whispered coldly. “You can’t even survive your own mouth.”

Johnny barely recognized the sounds coming out of himself anymore. Every breath had turned ragged and wet inside his chest while sobbing broke uncontrollably between gasps for air. His face throbbed violently beneath the weak yellow lights, blood running warm down his chin and neck while one side already swelled badly enough making it difficult seeing clearly. Diego stayed over him the entire time like something relentless and inhuman. Every time Johnny tried curling away instinctively, Diego dragged him back again. Every time Johnny raised shaking arms trying protect himself, Diego tore them aside effortlessly. The room had narrowed into pure fear now. Nothing else existed except Diego above him and pain tearing through every inch of his body. Diego suddenly grabbed Johnny by the throat again and hauled him halfway off the mattress hard enough making Johnny cry out weakly. “Look at me,” Diego ordered softly. Johnny couldn’t. He physically couldn’t anymore. His vision blurred too badly through tears and dizziness while panic kept flooding harder through his chest. Diego shook him violently once by the throat. “Look at me.” Johnny finally forced one swollen eye open enough seeing Diego properly again beneath the dim yellow lighting. Diego’s face looked terrifying. Calm. Pale. Flecked lightly with Johnny’s blood across one cheek and collar. His blond hair slightly disheveled now from the violence. Green eyes cold enough making Johnny feel sick. “Good,” Diego murmured quietly after Johnny finally looked at him. Then he punched him again. Johnny screamed. The sound cracked apart into helpless sobbing afterward while his body went limp briefly from the pain flooding through him. Diego released his throat just enough letting Johnny collapse sideways against the mattress gasping desperately for air. Johnny’s entire body trembled uncontrollably now. He could barely move. Diego watched him for several seconds in silence afterward. Then slowly he reached down, grabbed fistfuls of Johnny’s blond hair again, and dragged him brutally off the bed entirely. Johnny hit the floor hard enough pain shot violently through his hip and ribs all over again. He cried out instinctively while trying crawl away blindly across the dark floorboards. Diego followed immediately. Johnny barely got two feet before Diego’s boot slammed hard into his side. Something cracked again beneath the impact. Johnny screamed so loudly his own voice stopped sounding human.

The kick sent Johnny sprawling hard across the floorboards while agony exploded through his ribs violently enough making him choke on air. He curled instinctively around the pain, arms wrapping weakly around his stomach while sobbing tore uncontrollably through him now. Diego approached slowly again afterward. Johnny heard the measured sound of brown boots against wood before he even looked up. That calmness terrified him most. Diego never lost control completely. Even now. Even after everything. Johnny tried dragging himself backward weakly across the floor using trembling arms, panic flooding harder through his chest every second Diego came closer. “Diego—” Johnny gasped brokenly. “Please—” Diego stopped directly beside him. Then without warning he grabbed Johnny by the back of the torn red lace dress and hauled him violently upward again. Johnny screamed immediately as pain ripped through his ribs and shoulder all over again. Diego shoved him hard against the wall beside the bed afterward. Johnny hit it with enough force rattling the framed mirror hanging above nearby furniture. The crack splitting through the glass echoed sharply across the room. Johnny froze for half a second staring at his reflection fractured into pieces. Blood. Bruises. Tears. Diego’s shadow towering behind him. Johnny barely recognized himself anymore. Diego noticed where he looked and laughed quietly beneath his breath. Cold. Empty. “There you are,” Diego murmured near his ear afterward. “That’s what you really look like.” Johnny shook violently hearing it. Diego’s hand tightened hard around the back of Johnny’s neck before slamming his face directly into the cracked mirror. Glass shattered instantly. Johnny screamed as sharp pain tore across his forehead and cheek. Fragments scattered across the floor beneath them while blood streamed warmer down Johnny’s face now mixing with tears. Diego yanked him backward again immediately afterward only to throw him hard across the room toward the bed once more. Johnny landed badly half against the mattress and half onto the floor, body collapsing uselessly beneath him afterward. He could barely breathe now. Could barely think. Fear had become animalistic inside him. Pure survival. Diego approached again slowly through the dim yellow light while Johnny tried dragging himself weakly backward against the bedframe. “Please stop,” Johnny sobbed finally. The words came broken and humiliated through blood and tears alike. Diego’s expression did not change at all hearing them.

Diego crouched slowly in front of him afterward beneath the weak yellow lighting while Johnny trembled helplessly against the side of the bed. Blood dripped steadily from Johnny’s split mouth onto his bare chest now. His breathing had become shallow and uneven from the damage spreading through his ribs while tears kept slipping uncontrollably down his bruised face. Diego reached forward suddenly and grabbed Johnny hard by the jaw forcing his head upward. Johnny whimpered immediately from the pain shooting through his face. “Look how frightened you are now,” Diego murmured softly. “Interesting.” Johnny shook weakly beneath his grip trying pull away instinctively, but Diego held him still effortlessly. “A little while ago you were talking so confidently,” Diego continued coldly. “Now listen to yourself.” Johnny hated him. God he hated him so much. But terror had consumed the hatred almost completely now. Diego’s fingers pressed harder into Johnny’s bruised jaw while studying him beneath the dim light. “You know what the problem is with you?” Diego asked quietly. Johnny couldn’t answer. Diego didn’t wait for one anyway. “You always mistake cruelty for attention.” Johnny’s chest hitched painfully hearing that. Diego leaned slightly closer afterward until Johnny could smell cigarette smoke lingering faintly against him again. “Even now,” Diego whispered. “Part of you still feels relieved I’m looking at you this much.” Johnny immediately shook his head harder through the tears. “No—” Diego backhanded him across the mouth instantly hard enough Johnny’s head slammed sideways into the bedframe. Pain burst violently through him again while another cry ripped from his throat. Diego grabbed his throat immediately afterward and forced him flat onto the floorboards beneath him. Johnny’s body barely resisted properly anymore. His strength had almost completely vanished beneath the beating. Diego’s hand tightened slowly around his neck while Johnny clawed weakly at his wrist in panic. “No?” Diego repeated softly. “Then why do you keep saying my name?” Johnny’s eyes widened slightly through the tears hearing that. Diego stared down at him coldly afterward while Johnny gasped desperately beneath the crushing pressure around his throat. “Diego…” Johnny choked instinctively again. Diego smiled faintly. Cruelly. “Exactly.”

The pressure around Johnny’s throat increased little by little until panic completely consumed every remaining thought inside him. His bruised hands clawed frantically against Diego’s arm while his body jerked weakly beneath him trying pull free, but Diego stayed immovable above him beneath the weak yellow lights. Johnny’s lungs burned violently now. Every breath refused coming properly anymore. Tears streamed uncontrollably sideways into his hair while black spots started flickering faintly through his blurred vision. “D-Diego—” Johnny gasped again instinctively. Diego’s expression darkened hearing his name spoken like that. “You really sound terrified,” Diego murmured softly. Johnny couldn’t answer anymore. His entire body had begun shaking uncontrollably beneath the suffocating pressure crushing his throat. Diego leaned closer afterward, one hand still locked tightly around Johnny’s neck while the other pressed heavily against Johnny’s chest keeping him pinned to the floorboards. “Good,” Diego whispered quietly near Johnny’s ear. “You should be.” Johnny tried striking him weakly once more. The blow barely landed against Diego’s shoulder before his strength gave out again completely. Diego looked down at him afterward almost thoughtfully. Then tightened harder. Johnny’s back arched violently off the floor instantly while horrible choking sounds tore from his throat. His vision blurred worse now. Darker. Everything sounded distant beneath the roaring panic inside his skull. Diego’s face hovered above him like something unreal now — pale beneath the dim yellow lights, eyes cold and detached while Johnny slowly suffocated beneath his hands. Johnny’s movements weakened little by little afterward. His arms stopped fighting properly first. Then his legs. Fear flooded him completely now. Animal terror. He did not want dying here. Not like this. Not beneath Diego. Johnny forced trembling fingers weakly toward Diego’s wrist again trying pry him off despite how useless the effort had become. “Diego…” he rasped one final time through collapsing breaths. Diego stared at him silently afterward for several endless seconds. Then finally Johnny’s vision started fading at the edges completely. The room dimmed around him. The weak yellow lights stretched strangely across the ceiling. Diego’s hands still crushed painfully around his throat while darkness swallowed everything slower and slower afterward. The last thing Johnny felt clearly was Diego’s grip suddenly loosening. Then everything vanished into black.

Johnny’s eyes opened slowly into weak yellow light and darkness. For several horrible seconds he could not understand where he was. The ceiling above him blurred strangely in and out of focus while pain spread through every inch of his body hard enough making him feel sick immediately. His ribs burned every time he breathed. His throat throbbed violently. One side of his face felt swollen beyond recognition. Even the mattress beneath him hurt against bruised skin and torn muscle. Then memory returned all at once. Diego’s fists. The mirror shattering. Hands crushing around his throat while everything slowly turned black. Terror exploded violently through Johnny’s chest afterward so suddenly his entire body jerked weakly against the bed. A horrible trembling had already taken hold of him before he even fully woke up. His teeth knocked uncontrollably together hard enough creating tiny sharp clicking noises that echoed softly through the room. Johnny tried stopping it instinctively. Tried forcing his jaw still. He couldn’t. Fear had sunk too deep now. “Took you long enough.” Diego’s voice came quietly from somewhere nearby. Johnny froze instantly. His stomach twisted violently while panic spread colder through his body all over again. He still didn’t look toward the sound though. Couldn’t. His eyes stayed fixed upward at the ceiling while his entire body continued trembling beneath the black sheets. Somewhere beside the bed Diego inhaled slowly from a cigarette. Johnny heard the faint crackling burn before smoke drifted softly into the room afterward. That sound alone made another violent shiver tear through him. Diego was still here. Still sitting beside him after everything. Johnny’s breathing immediately became shallow and uneven afterward while fear clawed tighter through his chest. He still couldn’t fully feel one of his arms properly beneath the sheets. Blood had dried stiffly against his neck and mouth. Something warm still clung wetly near his temple where broken glass had torn through skin earlier. Johnny shut his eyes tightly for a second trying calming himself. It failed instantly. Fear swallowed everything else now. He could still feel phantom pressure around his throat from Diego’s hands. Could still hear himself choking helplessly beneath him. Diego spoke again somewhere nearby, voice low and calm beneath the buzzing lights. “You really scared Francesco this time.” Johnny barely processed the sentence properly. His mind had already narrowed completely into panic. His entire body kept shaking uncontrollably against the mattress while the only sounds inside the room became the horrible clicking of his teeth together and Diego slowly exhaling smoke into darkness.

Johnny stayed perfectly still except for the violent trembling wrecking through him every few seconds. His swollen eyes remained locked upward toward the ceiling because looking anywhere else felt impossible now. Especially toward Diego. The thought alone made fear tighten painfully through his ribs. Diego sat somewhere beside the bed smoking calmly while Johnny slowly drowned inside panic beside him. The contrast felt unbearable. Diego sounded completely untouched by what happened earlier. His breathing remained steady. Relaxed. Every inhale of cigarette smoke came slow and measured while Johnny could barely pull enough air into his own lungs without pain tearing through his chest. “You lost consciousness faster than I expected,” Diego murmured quietly afterward. Johnny immediately trembled harder hearing his voice again. “For a second I thought I’d actually killed you.” Diego sounded thoughtful saying it. Calm enough making Johnny’s stomach twist violently. Johnny’s fingers curled weakly into the sheets beneath him while another sharp tremor passed through his body. He still said nothing. Could say nothing. Fear had crawled too deep into him now. Even breathing too loudly suddenly felt dangerous. Diego shifted slightly in the chair nearby afterward. The soft creak instantly made Johnny flinch hard enough pain burst fresh through his ribs. Diego noticed immediately. Of course he noticed. Johnny’s chest tightened harder afterward while tears slipped silently sideways across bruised skin into his blond hair. He hated this. Hated how obvious the fear had become now. But his body no longer listened properly anymore. Terror had completely overtaken instinct. “Interesting,” Diego murmured softly after watching him tense. “You weren’t trembling this much earlier.” Johnny squeezed his eyes shut tighter hearing that observation. His teeth continued clicking uncontrollably together inside the silence between Diego’s words and cigarette smoke. Diego stayed quiet for several long moments afterward simply watching him. Johnny could feel it without even looking directly toward him. That made everything worse somehow. Being observed while fear slowly destroyed him little by little across the bed. Diego finally exhaled smoke softly afterward. “You know,” he murmured calmly, “before tonight I wasn’t sure whether you actually feared me or just hated me.” Johnny’s breathing immediately stuttered hearing that. Another violent tremor ripped through him afterward hard enough shaking the mattress faintly beneath his body. Diego watched silently through it all. Then quietly he added, “Now I know.”

Johnny could not stop shaking anymore. The trembling had become constant now — deep violent shivers tearing through his bruised body every few seconds hard enough making pain explode fresh across his ribs and throat each time. His jaw ached horribly from clenching against the uncontrollable clicking of his teeth. Tears kept slipping silently down the sides of his face no matter how tightly he squeezed his swollen eyes shut afterward. Diego remained beside him through all of it. Calm. Patient. Smoking quietly while weak yellow lights buzzed overhead. Johnny hated how normal Diego looked after what happened. Hated hearing him breathe so steadily nearby while Johnny felt like his entire body had shattered apart. “Francesco cleaned some of the blood earlier,” Diego said softly afterward. “You should’ve seen how frightened he looked.” Johnny’s stomach twisted immediately hearing Francesco mentioned. So Francesco had been inside the room after everything. Had seen Johnny unconscious and bloodied afterward. Shame burned weakly beneath the terror flooding his chest. Diego laughed quietly under his breath then. Cold. Empty. “He kept asking whether you needed a doctor.” Another slow inhale of smoke followed afterward. “I told him no.” Johnny’s breathing immediately hitched sharply hearing that. Panic tightened violently through him afterward. Diego said it so casually. Like deciding whether Johnny lived or died meant nothing important at all. Johnny’s fingers twitched weakly against the sheets while another horrible shiver tore through his body. He still refused looking toward Diego though. Couldn’t make himself do it anymore. Every memory from earlier returned too vividly the second he even imagined Diego’s face now. The blood across his knuckles. The calmness in his eyes while Johnny screamed beneath him. “You’re still shaking,” Diego observed quietly afterward. Johnny immediately trembled harder hearing him say it aloud. Diego sounded almost curious now. Like studying an injured animal reacting exactly how expected. “Does everything hurt that badly?” Diego asked softly. Johnny’s chest tightened instantly hearing the question. Fear surged harder through him because he suddenly realized Diego might stand up again. Might come closer. Might touch him. Johnny’s breathing broke apart weakly afterward into shallow panicked gasps while he stared harder upward at the ceiling trying becoming smaller somehow against the mattress. Diego watched him silently through all of it. Then after another long pause he murmured calmly, “Relax. If I wanted hitting you again, I already would’ve done it.” The sentence should not have comforted Johnny at all. Instead it terrified him worse.

The room remained suffocatingly quiet afterward except for Johnny’s trembling breaths and the occasional crackling sound of Diego’s cigarette burning slowly nearby. Johnny still could not stop shaking. His body felt trapped inside constant panic now. Every small sound Diego made immediately sent another wave of terror through him hard enough making his chest ache sharply. The soft shift of fabric. The faint creak of the chair. Even the quiet exhale of smoke drifting into darkness made Johnny tense violently against the mattress afterward. He had never been this afraid of Diego before. Not during Steel Ball Run. Not during their fights years ago. Not even downstairs during all those cruel humiliating nights together. This felt different now. Worse. Diego had crossed into something else entirely tonight. Johnny understood that much now even through the fear swallowing him whole. “You can’t even look at me anymore,” Diego murmured softly after another long silence. Johnny’s stomach twisted painfully hearing it spoken aloud. He still didn’t move his head though. His swollen eyes remained fixed upward while tears slipped slowly into his blond hair again. Diego continued calmly beside him. “That’s probably smart.” Another quiet inhale of smoke followed afterward. “You said some very brave things earlier.” Johnny immediately started trembling harder. The memory hit him all over again — the photographs, Diego’s mother, the exact second Diego’s expression changed into something colder than Johnny had ever seen before. Panic flooded violently back through his body. Diego noticed immediately. “You know,” Diego murmured quietly. “That fear suits you more than pride ever did.” Johnny’s breathing turned uneven afterward while fear clawed tighter around his lungs. He wanted someone entering the room suddenly. Francesco. Anybody. The silence between himself and Diego had become unbearable now. But no footsteps came outside the door. Nobody interrupted. They remained completely alone inside the dark room together beneath the weak buzzing lights. Diego suddenly leaned slightly forward in the chair nearby afterward. Johnny flinched violently on instinct. The mattress shook faintly beneath him from how hard his body jerked. Diego went silent for a second watching that reaction carefully. Then quietly — almost thoughtfully — he said, “You really think I’m going to touch you again if you keep lying there trembling like that?” Johnny’s chest tightened painfully. He still couldn’t stop shaking though. Fear had rooted itself too deep beneath his skin now. Diego laughed softly under his breath afterward. “Pathetic,” he murmured calmly.

Johnny no longer knew how much time had passed since waking up. Minutes stretched endlessly inside the black room beneath the weak yellow lights while terror slowly hollowed him out from the inside. His body still trembled uncontrollably against the mattress. Sometimes violently enough making the bed shake faintly beneath him. Every breath hurt. Every heartbeat pulsed painfully through bruised skin and cracked ribs. Diego remained beside him through all of it sitting calmly in the chair near the bed, smoking cigarette after cigarette while watching Johnny slowly fall apart without touching him once. Somehow that frightened Johnny even more now. Diego did not need moving anymore. His presence alone had already become enough. “You know what’s strange?” Diego murmured quietly after another long silence. Johnny immediately tensed hard enough another painful shiver ripped through his body. “A few days ago you were still trying to provoke me.” Diego exhaled smoke slowly into darkness afterward. “Now you can barely breathe properly sitting in the same room with me.” Johnny’s throat tightened painfully hearing it spoken aloud. Shame crawled weakly beneath the terror consuming him. Diego sounded almost amused by the difference. Johnny still refused looking toward him though. He physically couldn’t anymore. His eyes stayed fixed upward while tears continued slipping silently down bruised skin into his hairline. “I think this suits you better,” Diego continued softly afterward. “Quiet.” Another pause followed while cigarette smoke drifted lazily upward beneath the dim yellow light. “You should’ve learned fear earlier, Joestar.” Johnny’s breathing broke unevenly afterward while panic surged violently through his chest again. He could still hear Diego’s fists hitting him every time he closed his eyes. Could still feel hands crushing around his throat while darkness swallowed him whole. Another violent tremor tore through him afterward hard enough making small panicked sounds escape weakly between breaths before he could stop them. Diego noticed immediately. Of course he noticed. Johnny hated that most. Nothing escaped Diego. Not the shaking. Not the tears. Not the fear. Diego extinguished the cigarette quietly somewhere nearby afterward. Then silence swallowed the room completely again except for Johnny trembling helplessly across the bed beneath the weak yellow lights while Diego sat beside him calmly like something monstrous wearing a human face.

Diego slowly rose from the chair after watching Johnny shake for several long seconds beneath the dim yellow lighting. The room stayed unbearably quiet except for Johnny’s trembling breaths and the faint crackling sound of Diego’s cigarette burning between his fingers. Johnny heard the movement immediately. His entire body stiffened against the mattress before Diego had even taken a single step toward him. Fear crawled violently through Johnny’s chest so fast it almost made him nauseous again. No. No no no. His mind instantly began screaming the same thing over and over again before Diego even reached the bed. Need to leave. Need to leave. Need to get out. But Johnny’s body would not move properly. Everything hurt too badly. His ribs ached every time he breathed. His face burned. His throat still felt bruised from Diego’s hands around it earlier. Even lifting his head felt impossible now. So all Johnny could do was lay there trembling harder and harder while Diego slowly approached him through the shadows of the room. Diego did not hurry. That somehow made it worse. Every slow step of those brown boots against the floor sounded sharp enough to make Johnny’s pulse spike harder beneath his bruised ribs. Johnny kept staring upward at the ceiling because looking directly at Diego suddenly felt impossible. His vision had already started blurring again anyway from panic and exhaustion and leftover tears sticking coldly against his face. Then the mattress dipped slightly beside him. Diego had sat down next to him. Too close. Much too close. Johnny immediately shut his eyes hard the second he felt the warmth of another body near him again. Pain flashed violently through his head afterward as memories slammed into him all at once without warning. Diego hitting him. Again. Again. Again. The sound of fists against skin. The taste of blood filling Johnny’s mouth. His own voice screaming somewhere far away while Diego kept going without stopping. The way Diego looked while hurting him terrified Johnny most of all now. Not angry. Not out of control. Calm. Diego had looked calm while beating him. That realization shattered something inside Johnny worse than the bruises themselves. Johnny’s breathing immediately started breaking apart again into panicked uneven gasps while his body shook harder against the bed beneath him. Then Diego moved beside him. Johnny felt one hand slowly lift toward him. That tiny movement completely destroyed whatever little control Johnny still had left. A sharp broken sound escaped him instantly before his crying suddenly collapsed into full panic. At first it came out as small choking sobs trapped somewhere deep in his chest. Then louder. Then louder still until Johnny completely lost control over it. His entire body curled weakly inward beneath the blankets while violent sobs ripped uncontrollably from his throat one after another. Tears blurred everything around him instantly. He could not stop. He genuinely could not stop anymore. Fear swallowed him whole so violently it almost felt physical now. Johnny kept shaking so hard the mattress beneath him trembled faintly with every breath he took. Somewhere nearby Diego was still sitting beside him, but Johnny could barely process that anymore through the panic crushing his chest. Every time he tried breathing deeper another memory flashed violently through his head instead. Diego’s fist. Diego dragging him by the hair. Diego choking him while Johnny begged breathlessly beneath him. The room suddenly felt too small. Too dark. Johnny honestly thought for one horrible second that he might black out again right there from terror alone. His crying only worsened after that, loud enough now that even Johnny himself sounded unrecognizable beneath it.

Diego stayed completely still beside him at first. That silence somehow frightened Johnny even more. Johnny’s sobbing had already become uncontrollable now, harsh enough to leave his chest aching painfully with every breath. His entire body shook so violently against the mattress that it almost looked feverish beneath the dim yellow lighting. Tears soaked into the black pillow beneath his face while his hands weakly gripped the sheets as if holding onto something solid might somehow stop the panic tearing through him. But nothing stopped it. Nothing slowed it. Every time Johnny tried dragging air into his lungs another image immediately crashed through his mind instead. Diego standing over him earlier with blood across his knuckles. Diego’s voice sounding cold and distant while Johnny screamed beneath him. The sound of his own body hitting the floor. Johnny honestly could not separate memory from the present anymore. The fear had become too large now. Too overwhelming. Somewhere beside him Diego quietly exhaled cigarette smoke into the dim room while watching him break apart. Johnny heard it faintly between sobs and instantly curled tighter inward against the bed without even realizing he was doing it. God. He was terrified. Not angry anymore. Not humiliated. Terrified. Diego slowly lowered the cigarette afterward into the ashtray beside the bed with a soft metallic sound that made Johnny flinch violently anyway. Then finally Diego spoke. “For God’s sake…” he murmured quietly. His voice sounded low and cold again, but there was something unfamiliar buried underneath it now. Irritation maybe. Or disbelief. Johnny could not tell anymore. Johnny only cried harder hearing him speak. The sound coming out of him now barely even sounded human anymore. Diego stared at him silently for several seconds afterward before speaking again. “I barely touched you just now.” Johnny immediately shook harder at that sentence. Barely touched you. The words twisted violently inside his chest because Johnny’s body still remembered everything from before too clearly. His ribs remembered. His throat remembered. Every bruise burning across his skin remembered. Diego moved slightly beside him again afterward and Johnny instantly let out another broken choking sob before trying weakly to pull farther away despite the pain shooting through his body. He could barely move. That only made the panic worse. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face now while he struggled desperately just to breathe properly between sobs. Diego watched him for another long moment beneath the weak yellow lights. Then finally Diego muttered something quietly beneath his breath in frustration before reaching one hand toward Johnny anyway. The second cold fingers brushed lightly against Johnny’s shoulder everything shattered again. Johnny cried out sharply like he had actually been hit. His entire body jerked violently beneath the blankets while another wave of hysterical sobbing tore through him hard enough to leave him gasping afterward. Diego instantly pulled his hand back again after that. Silence swallowed the room for several seconds except for Johnny’s uncontrollable crying and ragged breathing. Diego stared down at him with an unreadable expression now, cigarette smoke curling faintly around him beneath the dim yellow lighting while Johnny continued trembling so badly it looked painful.

Johnny could barely hear anything anymore over the sound of his own sobbing. His ears rang violently while panic kept clawing deeper and deeper into his chest every second Diego remained beside him. The room itself had started feeling unreal somehow. Too dark. Too small. The yellow lights overhead buzzed faintly while shadows stretched endlessly across the black walls and sheets around them. Johnny felt trapped inside the room now in a way that made breathing harder every second. He could still feel Diego sitting beside him without even looking. That alone was enough to keep terror flooding through his body uncontrollably. Johnny’s fingers curled tighter into the sheets beneath him while tears continued spilling helplessly down his bruised face. He wanted somebody else there. Francesco. Anybody. Anybody except Diego. But nobody came upstairs. Nobody opened the door. Nobody saved him from the nightmare sitting beside him quietly in the darkness. Diego finally leaned slightly forward after another long silence, elbows resting loosely against his knees while he stared down at Johnny trembling beside him. “You’re acting like I’m going to kill you,” Diego said quietly. Johnny immediately choked harder on another sob hearing that voice so close beside him again. Diego sounded calm. Completely calm. That terrified Johnny more than anything else could have. Johnny’s breathing became more uneven afterward until he honestly thought he might throw up from panic alone. He still could not look directly at Diego. Could not force himself to turn his head toward him even once. Every instinct inside him screamed not to. Diego watched him silently for several more seconds afterward. Then quietly he muttered, “Pathetic.” The word landed softly inside the room. Johnny instantly curled tighter inward against the mattress like the insult itself physically hurt. Another sob ripped violently from his throat afterward while his shoulders shook uncontrollably beneath the dim lighting. Diego’s eyes slowly moved across the bruises he left earlier. Across the blood still staining Johnny’s mouth and throat faintly beneath the yellow light. Across the trembling hands gripping uselessly at the blankets now. Something unreadable flickered briefly across Diego’s face before vanishing almost immediately again. “Where’d all that attitude go?,” Diego murmured coldly. Johnny let out another broken sound hearing that. God. Diego was remembering it too. The screaming. The begging. Johnny honestly felt like he might stop breathing entirely from humiliation and fear crushing together inside his chest now. His vision blurred harder with tears afterward until everything around him melted into streaks of dark shadow and weak gold light. Diego reached toward the ashtray again and lit another cigarette calmly while Johnny continued sobbing beside him hard enough to shake the entire bed. The lighter clicking open made Johnny flinch again instinctively. Diego noticed immediately. Of course he noticed. He always noticed every ugly little weakness in people eventually. Johnny hated him so much in that moment it physically hurt somewhere deep inside his chest beneath all the fear. But even hatred felt small now compared to terror. Diego inhaled quietly from the cigarette afterward while Johnny continued trembling beside him like a frightened animal too exhausted to run anymore.

Time had completely stopped making sense to Johnny now. Seconds stretched endlessly beneath the weak yellow lighting while his sobbing slowly destroyed what little strength he still had left. His throat burned raw. Every breath came uneven and sharp now from crying too hard for too long. But the fear never lessened. Not even slightly. Diego remained beside him the entire time smoking quietly while Johnny shook uncontrollably against the bloodstained sheets. Johnny honestly felt like he was losing his mind. Every time the room grew even slightly quieter his thoughts instantly dragged him back toward earlier again. Diego’s fist slamming into his face. Diego dragging him upward by the hair while Johnny screamed. Diego’s hands around his throat while darkness swallowed his vision. The memories replayed over and over again without stopping until Johnny genuinely could not tell whether he was remembering them or reliving them all over again. At some point Diego finally sighed quietly beside him and leaned back into the chair again. “This is exhausting,” he muttered beneath his breath. Johnny instantly felt another wave of panic crash through him hearing movement beside the bed again. His entire body jerked weakly beneath the blankets before another broken sob escaped him uncontrollably. Diego looked down at him afterward with growing irritation visible beneath the coldness now. “Stop crying,” Diego said flatly. Johnny could not. He physically could not stop anymore. His body had completely betrayed him now. Tears continued pouring helplessly down his face while violent shaking wracked through his bruised body every few seconds hard enough to hurt. Diego watched him for another long moment before speaking again quieter this time. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” Johnny cried harder hearing that. Somewhere deep inside him humiliation still existed beneath the terror, twisting painfully through his chest while he continued sobbing in front of the same person who had already destroyed him hours earlier. Diego looked almost disgusted now watching him unravel like this. “I didn’t realize you frightened this easily,” Diego murmured coldly afterward. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut tighter hearing those words. Easily. As if Diego had not nearly beaten him unconscious earlier. As if Johnny’s body was not still covered in bruises and blood from Diego’s hands. Another violent tremor ripped through Johnny afterward hard enough to make his teeth chatter audibly beneath the dim lighting. Diego’s eyes flicked briefly toward the movement. Then quietly he asked, “Are you cold?” Johnny could not answer even if he wanted to. His sobbing had become too harsh now for words to form properly anymore. Diego stared at him silently for another few seconds before finally crushing the cigarette out beside the bed again with faint irritation. The room immediately fell quieter afterward except for Johnny’s crying and the buzzing overhead lights.

Johnny honestly thought he might die from panic before the night finally ended. His entire body hurt too badly now to keep trembling this hard, but fear continued forcing violent shivers through him anyway every few seconds beneath the blankets. He still had not looked directly at Diego once since waking up. Could not. Even hearing Diego breathe nearby made terror spike sharply through his chest all over again. Diego remained sitting beside him watching in silence now, one elbow resting loosely against the arm of the chair while shadows stretched across half his face beneath the dim yellow lights. Johnny’s crying had weakened slightly only because exhaustion was finally beginning to overtake him. But tears still slid endlessly down his bruised face while small broken sobs continued escaping him uncontrollably every few breaths. He felt completely destroyed now. Empty. Like something inside him had cracked permanently somewhere during the beating earlier and would never fit together properly again afterward. Diego studied him quietly for a very long time before finally speaking once more. “I don’t even have to touch you anymore.” he murmured softly. Johnny immediately squeezed his eyes shut tighter hearing that calm voice again. Diego sounded almost thoughtful saying it. That somehow made everything worse. Johnny’s fingers tightened weakly around the sheets beneath him while another shaky breath escaped his throat. Diego leaned slightly closer afterward. Not enough to touch him. Just enough that Johnny could feel his presence more clearly beside the bed again. “Huh,” Diego continued quietly. “You barely look alive now.” Johnny’s breathing immediately faltered harder hearing that. Diego watched every reaction carefully now beneath the weak yellow lights. “Now you won’t even look at me.” Johnny’s chest tightened painfully at those words because Diego was right. He couldn’t. Every time Johnny even thought about turning his head toward Diego another flash of violence immediately exploded through his mind again hard enough to make him feel sick. Diego’s fist. Diego’s eyes. Diego choking him while Johnny screamed his name breathlessly beneath him. Terror swallowed everything else now. Diego sat back slightly afterward and studied him in silence again. Then finally he muttered quietly beneath his breath, almost to himself, “I think I finally broke you.” Johnny immediately began crying harder all over again hearing that sentence. Diego watched without moving while Johnny completely fell apart beside him beneath the buzzing yellow lights, trembling violently against the bed like somebody trapped inside a nightmare he could no longer wake himself from.

The crying eventually stopped only because Johnny physically could not keep doing it anymore. His throat had gone raw from sobbing for so long, and now every breath scraped painfully through his chest in shallow uneven pulls that never quite filled his lungs properly. The room had fallen quieter again beneath the weak yellow lights, but the silence did not feel peaceful. It felt ruined. Heavy. Suffocating. Johnny stayed exactly where he was on the bed without moving even an inch, his bruised face turned slightly toward the pillow beside him while unfocused blue eyes remained locked onto the dark fabric in front of him. He had cried so hard earlier that now even blinking hurt. His eyelids burned. His head pounded violently. Every part of him felt drained empty in the ugliest possible way. Diego was still somewhere nearby speaking occasionally in that same low calm voice, but Johnny barely processed the words anymore. They drifted through the room like distant noise without meaning. Johnny simply stared at the pillow in front of him silently while his body trembled every so often from leftover shock. He looked hollow now. Completely hollow. Diego noticed immediately. Of course he did. Diego always noticed things like this. The room smelled faintly like smoke, blood, and sweat beneath the dim lighting while Johnny remained motionless against the sheets looking less like a person and more like something abandoned there hours ago. His blond hair stuck damply against bruised skin while dried tears still clung to his face. He had not wiped them away. He no longer seemed capable of caring enough to. Diego watched him for several long minutes from the chair beside the bed afterward before finally standing up slowly. Johnny heard the movement faintly. His breathing faltered for half a second instinctively, but he still did not look toward him. Fear remained trapped deep inside his body somewhere, but exhaustion had buried it beneath something heavier now. Numbness maybe. Diego moved closer to the bed afterward until the mattress dipped lightly beside Johnny again. Johnny’s eyes never moved from the pillow. Then Diego reached down and caught Johnny’s chin firmly between his fingers, forcing his face slightly upward beneath the weak yellow lighting. Johnny did not fight him. Did not flinch. Did not react at all besides one shallow shaky breath leaving his chest. That lack of reaction disturbed the room more than the crying earlier somehow. Diego studied Johnny’s face silently afterward while holding his jaw still. Bruises darkened beneath Johnny’s pale skin now, spreading ugly shades of purple and blue across his cheekbones and throat. One side of his mouth still carried dried blood near the corner. His eyes looked empty. Not angry anymore. Not even frightened in the obvious way from before. Just distant. Deadened. Diego’s thumb brushed lightly against Johnny’s jawline afterward, turning his face slightly more toward the light while he examined the damage calmly. Johnny’s gaze remained unfocused the entire time, drifting somewhere past Diego instead of looking directly at him. He genuinely looked half dead now. Diego slowly narrowed his eyes studying him. “You look terrible,” he murmured quietly. Johnny said nothing. The silence stretched long afterward while Diego continued holding Johnny’s face in place, staring down at him beneath the dim yellow lights as if trying to decide whether he had broken him too much this time.

Johnny’s breathing still sounded wrong. Too shallow. Too weak. Diego noticed that immediately while crouched beside the bed holding Johnny’s chin between bloodstained fingers. Every few breaths Johnny’s chest tightened unevenly like his ribs physically refused to expand properly anymore after the beating earlier. The sound filled the quiet room in ugly little fragments while Johnny continued staring blankly toward the pillow without truly seeing it. He no longer looked fully awake now. More like somebody trapped halfway between consciousness and collapse. Diego watched him silently for another long moment afterward before finally releasing his jaw. Johnny’s head immediately dropped slightly back against the pillow from pure exhaustion. He still did not speak. Did not move. Diego sat beside him on the edge of the mattress afterward, cigarette smoke curling faintly through the weak yellow light above them while Johnny lay there looking destroyed beside him. “You stopped crying,” Diego said quietly after awhile. Johnny gave no sign he even heard the sentence. His eyes remained fixed distantly ahead while his breathing continued scraping painfully through bruised lungs. Diego leaned back slightly against the headboard afterward, studying him from the side. “That’s almost worse,” he murmured beneath his breath. Johnny blinked slowly once. That was all. Diego’s expression darkened faintly watching him like this. Earlier Johnny had at least reacted. Screamed. Trembled. Tried desperately to pull away from him. Now there was almost nothing left in him besides exhaustion and shock. Even fear had burned itself empty for the moment. Diego reached for another cigarette afterward and lit it quietly while continuing to watch Johnny from beside him. The flame briefly illuminated the blood still dried faintly across Diego’s knuckles before fading again beneath the dim yellow room light. Johnny noticed none of it. Or maybe he noticed everything and simply no longer cared enough to respond. Diego inhaled slowly before exhaling smoke toward the ceiling above them. “Francesco was right about one thing,” he murmured quietly after another long silence. “You’ve gotten thinner.” Johnny’s expression never changed. Diego’s eyes drifted slowly downward across Johnny’s bruised body beneath the tangled black sheets. Johnny looked fragile now in a way he never had before. Not physically weak alone. Something worse. Like the world itself had finally worn him down past the point of fighting back properly anymore. Diego hated that realization more than he expected to. Johnny suddenly coughed weakly afterward. The sound immediately turned rough and painful halfway through, forcing his body to tense sharply against the mattress while one trembling breath caught violently in his chest. Diego instinctively reached toward him again before stopping halfway. Johnny’s eyes flickered faintly at the movement despite himself. Fear still existed there somewhere underneath the numbness after all. Diego slowly lowered his hand back down again afterward without touching him. “Relax,” he muttered coldly. “If I wanted to hit you again, you’d know.” Johnny’s breathing shook harder for several seconds afterward hearing that voice so close beside him again. But still he said absolutely nothing.

Time dragged strangely through the room after that. The weak yellow lights overhead buzzed softly while smoke continued curling through the darkness around them in pale shifting ribbons. Johnny remained stretched across the bed unmoving except for the shallow painful rise and fall of his chest. His entire body still ached too badly to rest properly. Every bruise throbbed beneath his skin now that the adrenaline from earlier had completely faded away. His face hurt. His ribs hurt. Even his throat still burned every time he swallowed from Diego’s hands around it earlier. But somehow the emotional exhaustion felt worse now than the physical pain itself. Johnny no longer even had the strength left to feel humiliated properly. Everything inside him simply felt numb and distant. Diego stayed seated beside him quietly smoking while occasionally glancing down toward Johnny’s silent unmoving form. “You know,” Diego finally murmured after a very long silence, “most people would’ve tried running by now.” Johnny’s eyes remained fixed blankly toward the pillow. Diego tilted his head slightly studying him. “But you haven’t moved once.” Another slow drag from the cigarette. “Interesting Choice.” Johnny swallowed weakly afterward. That tiny movement was the first real reaction Diego had gotten from him in several minutes now. Diego noticed immediately. “What?” he asked softly. Johnny’s breathing faltered slightly hearing the question directed at him, but still no answer came. His lips parted faintly before closing again uselessly. Diego stared at him for another long moment afterward before quietly laughing once under his breath. The sound carried no amusement in it. “You keep staring anywhere except me,” Diego murmured. Johnny’s fingers twitched faintly against the blanket hearing that sentence. Diego leaned slightly closer afterward, cigarette resting loosely between two pale fingers while his green eyes studied Johnny’s exhausted face beneath the dim lighting. “The memory’s worse than the beating now, isn’t it??” Johnny shut his eyes weakly for a second afterward. Diego immediately saw the answer there anyway. Of course he did. Johnny’s entire body still subtly tensed every time Diego’s voice moved closer beside him now. Diego exhaled smoke quietly before lowering the cigarette toward the ashtray beside the bed again. “Pathetic,” he whispered softly afterward. Johnny’s breathing immediately shook harder hearing the word again. Diego watched him carefully afterward while silence swallowed the room once more. Johnny looked ruined now in a way that almost felt irreversible. Like something inside him had collapsed completely sometime during the beating earlier and never properly returned afterward. Diego slowly leaned back again against the headboard while continuing to stare down at him beneath the weak yellow lights. “You really thought you understood hatred before this,” Diego murmured quietly after awhile. Johnny’s expression twitched faintly for the first time hearing that. Barely noticeable. But Diego caught it instantly. “No,” Diego continued calmly. “This is different now.” Johnny squeezed his eyes shut tighter afterward while another shaky breath escaped his bruised chest.

The silence afterward lasted so long it almost stopped feeling real. Diego remained beside him on the bed while Johnny continued staring blankly ahead like somebody too exhausted even to sleep anymore. His body had finally stopped trembling constantly now, but every so often another involuntary shiver still ran weakly through him whenever Diego shifted beside him or spoke too suddenly. Fear still lived inside Johnny’s body whether he wanted it there or not. Diego could see that clearly now. Johnny simply no longer had enough strength left to physically react the way he had earlier. Diego’s gaze moved slowly across Johnny’s face again afterward beneath the weak yellow lights. The bruising had already started darkening more visibly now across one side of his jaw and beneath his eye. His lip looked split badly. There were fingerprints faintly visible near his throat too where Diego had held him down earlier. Johnny looked destroyed. Diego studied the damage in silence before quietly saying, “Francesco will probably keep you hidden for awhile.” Johnny’s eyes flickered faintly at the mention of Francesco’s name. Diego noticed immediately. “Ah,” he murmured softly. “So you’re still listening after all.” Johnny immediately went still again afterward. Diego watched him carefully for several seconds before continuing in the same calm voice. “You should’ve seen yourself earlier.” Johnny’s breathing instantly grew uneven again hearing that sentence. Diego kept talking anyway. “Crying. Screaming. Begging me to stop breathing long enough to let you breathe.” His voice stayed terrifyingly detached while describing it. Johnny’s fingers weakly tightened against the blanket beneath him. Diego noticed that too. “There it is,” Diego murmured quietly. “Still alive somewhere under all this.” Johnny’s chest rose shakily afterward while he continued refusing to look directly toward him. Diego leaned closer once more, lowering his voice slightly. “Tell me something, Joestar.” Silence. “Are you frightened because I hurt you?” Another pause. “Or because you realized I enjoyed it?” Johnny’s breathing immediately hitched painfully at those words. Diego stared at him silently afterward while the room remained buried beneath smoke and dim yellow light. Johnny still could not force himself to answer. Could not even force himself to look at him. The thought alone made panic crawl faintly back through his exhausted body again. Diego eventually leaned away afterward with another quiet exhale through his nose. “Thought so,” he murmured coldly. Johnny shut his eyes tighter hearing that. Somewhere deep inside himself he still hated Diego with everything left in him. But right now the hatred sat buried underneath fear too large to push aside anymore.

Eventually Diego crushed the cigarette out beside the bed again and the room fell almost completely silent afterward except for Johnny’s breathing. The weak yellow lights overhead continued buzzing softly while shadows stretched long across the black walls around them. Johnny still had not moved properly once since waking up. He simply lay there staring distantly toward the pillow beside him looking more exhausted every passing minute. Diego remained sitting beside him studying him quietly with unreadable eyes. Then finally Diego reached toward Johnny again. This time slower. More deliberate. His fingers brushed lightly through Johnny’s damp blond hair near his forehead, pushing a few strands away from bruised skin. Johnny immediately flinched faintly despite himself. The reaction was small. Weak. But still there. Diego paused afterward watching him carefully. Johnny’s breathing had started trembling again now from the touch alone. Diego’s expression darkened slightly seeing it. “Even my voice is enough now.” he murmured softly. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut again immediately afterward while another shaky breath escaped his chest. Diego kept his hand lightly against Johnny’s hair for several seconds longer before slowly withdrawing it again. “Hm,” he whispered quietly beneath the weak yellow lighting. “I don’t think anyone’s ever looked at me like this before.” Johnny’s fingers curled tighter weakly into the sheets hearing that calm thoughtful voice beside him again. Diego leaned back afterward while continuing to study him silently. “You know what the worst part is?” Diego asked quietly after another long pause. Johnny gave no response. Diego continued anyway. “You still hate me.” His mouth curved faintly afterward. “Even now.” Johnny’s breathing faltered painfully hearing that sentence because Diego was right. The hatred still existed somewhere deep underneath the fear and shock crushing him now. Diego saw the reaction instantly. “I was wondering when that look would return,” he murmured softly. Johnny’s eyes remained fixed toward the pillow while tears slowly gathered weakly again at the corners of them from exhaustion alone. Diego watched him for several more seconds afterward before finally standing up from the bed again. The mattress shifted lightly beside Johnny as Diego stepped away toward the chair once more beneath the dim yellow lights. Johnny immediately felt the space beside him empty afterward and his body relaxed just slightly for the first time in what felt like hours. Diego noticed that too. Of course he did. He glanced back toward Johnny one final time while reaching for another cigarette. “Whore,” he murmured quietly again. Then silence swallowed the room once more while Johnny remained lying motionless against the black sheets staring blankly ahead like somebody too broken now to even understand how badly he had fallen apart.

The knock against the door came so softly that Johnny almost thought he imagined it at first. He still lay exactly where Diego left him, half tangled in the black sheets beneath the weak yellow lights while pain pulsed through every part of his body slowly and endlessly. His face rested turned slightly toward the pillow now, one bruised cheek pressed weakly against dark fabric while strands of blond hair stuck damply across his forehead and eyes. Everything hurt. His ribs. His throat. His jaw. Even breathing felt wrong now. Small. Fragile. Like his lungs no longer worked properly inside his chest after Diego’s hands wrapped around his throat earlier. Across the room Diego remained seated calmly in the chair near the bed, cigarette smoke curling lazily around him beneath the dim yellow lighting. His gloves were back on already. His turquoise sweater sat perfectly against his body again. The blood on his knuckles looked almost unreal beneath the shadows. Johnny stared emptily downward toward the blanket near his legs instead of looking at him. He had stopped crying awhile ago. Not because he felt better. He simply did not have enough left inside himself anymore to continue. Another soft knock came afterward before the door carefully opened a few inches. One of the girls downstairs slowly stepped inside, immediately freezing the second she actually saw the room properly. “Mr. Brando…” she said quietly, voice uncertain beneath the buzzing yellow lights. Diego lazily lifted his eyes toward her without moving otherwise. “What.” The coldness in his voice instantly made the girl tense. Johnny did not react at all. He stayed completely motionless on the bed, breathing shallowly while his eyes remained fixed downward toward nothing. The girl swallowed nervously before continuing. “Francesco told me to ask if…” Her voice faltered briefly after another glance toward Johnny. “If I could take JoJo downstairs now.” The second she used that name, something twisted weakly inside Johnny’s chest. JoJo. God. He had almost forgotten people here still called him that sometimes. Diego slowly leaned back deeper into the chair afterward while exhaling another thin stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “Did he.” His voice sounded bored now. Detached. Like none of this mattered. The girl nodded carefully near the doorway afterward before her eyes drifted back toward Johnny fully again. Then she stopped breathing for a second. Johnny looked horrifying. Bruises darkened almost every visible part of his pale skin now. Blood stained the sheets beneath him in rust-colored streaks. One side of his mouth remained split faintly open from where Diego hit him earlier. Even worse than the injuries though was the complete emptiness in him now. Johnny did not look angry anymore. Or scared. Or humiliated. He looked gone. Like something inside him quietly stopped existing while Diego beat him into the mattress. The girl’s eyes instantly filled with tears seeing him like this, though she quickly tried forcing them back before Diego noticed. Diego noticed anyway. Of course he did.

“Something wrong?” Diego asked quietly afterward while resting the cigarette near his mouth again. The girl visibly stiffened hearing him speak. Johnny however did absolutely nothing. He did not blink. Did not lift his head. He simply kept staring blankly downward toward his own legs beneath the tangled blanket while shallow breaths trembled weakly through bruised ribs. The girl looked between both men uncertainly before finally whispering softly, “JoJo…” The nickname sounded painfully gentle inside the dark room. Johnny still did not react. The girl’s face tightened visibly afterward seeing that complete lack of response. Slowly she stepped further into the room while trying not to stare too long at the blood across the sheets. “God…” she whispered beneath her breath. Diego watched her calmly from the chair nearby while smoke drifted around his face beneath the weak lighting. “You look upset,” he murmured softly. The girl immediately looked toward him again, eyes still wet now despite trying to stay composed. “Mr. Brando…” Her voice shook faintly. “Please don’t be angry but…” She hesitated briefly before glancing toward Johnny again. “How could you do this to him on his birthday?” Silence swallowed the room instantly afterward. Even the buzzing lights overhead suddenly sounded louder somehow. Johnny still gave absolutely no reaction hearing the word birthday. No movement crossed his face at all. He simply continued staring downward toward his lap with empty blue eyes while his body shook faintly from exhaustion against the mattress. Diego however slowly lowered the cigarette away from his mouth. “Birthday,” he repeated quietly after awhile. The word sounded strange in his mouth somehow. Like something distant and unimportant. The girl nodded weakly afterward. “Francesco mentioned it earlier,” she whispered. “That’s why he wanted me to come get him.” Diego’s eyes slowly drifted back toward Johnny again after hearing that. For several long seconds he studied him silently beneath the dim yellow lights. Johnny remained completely still through it. He did not look toward Diego once. Did not defend himself. Did not insult him. Nothing. That frightened the girl more than the bruises somehow. Earlier downstairs Johnny always snapped at people eventually no matter how exhausted he looked. He glared. He muttered insults. Sometimes he laughed bitterly under his breath when customers annoyed him enough. But now? Nothing remained. Diego noticed that too. A faint unreadable expression crossed his face before disappearing almost immediately again. Then finally he laughed once beneath his breath. Quiet. Cold. “How unfortunate,” he murmured softly afterward. The girl visibly flinched hearing that response. Johnny however stayed motionless. His hands rested limply against the blanket over his lap now while his chest rose and fell weakly beneath the ruined red lace fabric hanging loosely from his bruised body. He genuinely looked dead already except for the breathing.

The girl slowly approached the bed afterward while forcing herself not to cry in front of Diego. “JoJo…” she whispered softly again once she reached the mattress. Johnny still did not look toward her voice. His empty gaze remained fixed downward while strands of blond hair shadowed part of his bruised face. Up close he looked even worse somehow. Dark marks wrapped around his throat where Diego’s hands had been earlier. One eye had swollen faintly already. His lips looked split and raw from blood and shaking breaths. The girl’s chest tightened painfully seeing him like this. Carefully she reached one trembling hand toward his shoulder. Johnny flinched immediately beneath her touch. Tiny. Weak. Almost instinctive. Then he went still again afterward like even fear itself no longer fully reached him anymore. Diego quietly watched the entire thing from the chair nearby while cigarette smoke curled lazily around him beneath the yellow lighting. “C’mon, JoJo…” the girl whispered shakily. “Let’s get you downstairs.” Johnny gave absolutely no response. Not even a blink this time. The girl swallowed hard afterward before carefully sliding one arm behind his shoulders anyway, trying to help him sit upright from the mattress. Johnny’s body barely cooperated. A weak painful breath escaped him the second movement pulled against bruised ribs, but otherwise he stayed limp beneath her hands while she struggled to lift him properly. The blanket slipped lower during the movement afterward revealing more dark bruises scattered across pale skin beneath the torn red lace dress. The girl’s eyes immediately watered harder seeing them. Diego noticed that too. “Careful,” he murmured softly from the chair afterward. “He breaks easily tonight.” The girl visibly stiffened hearing the amusement hidden beneath his calm voice. Johnny still never looked toward him once. Finally after several difficult moments the girl managed to sit Johnny weakly at the edge of the bed. His head drooped slightly downward afterward while his hands rested uselessly near his lap. He looked frighteningly thin sitting there now. Too thin. Like Diego’s violence had stripped away the last fragile thing keeping him upright inside his own body. The girl carefully brushed some blond hair back from his forehead afterward and quietly whispered, “JoJo…” again like she hoped hearing his name enough times might somehow bring him back. Nothing happened. Johnny continued staring blankly downward toward his legs without speaking. Diego slowly crushed the cigarette into the ashtray beside him afterward before leaning back calmly into the chair again. “Interesting,” he murmured quietly beneath his breath while watching Johnny’s empty face.

It took several minutes to finally get Johnny into the wheelchair beside the bed. His body moved sluggishly beneath the girl’s hands now, almost completely lifeless except for the weak trembling that still occasionally passed through him from pain or leftover fear. Every time she shifted him another strained breath escaped his bruised ribs, but Johnny never complained once. Never resisted. Never even looked properly aware anymore. He simply allowed himself to be moved piece by piece like somebody too exhausted to remember how to hold onto his own body. Diego watched the entire thing in complete silence from the chair nearby beneath the weak yellow lighting. Once Johnny finally sat inside the wheelchair afterward, his posture immediately collapsed inward slightly. His head tilted faintly downward while bruised hands rested limply against the blanket covering his legs. The girl slowly adjusted the fabric around him afterward with shaking fingers while trying not to cry seeing the blood still staining parts of the dress and sheets. “God…” she whispered softly beneath her breath. Diego’s eyes lifted toward her again afterward. “You’re acting like I killed him,” he murmured calmly. The girl immediately looked toward him with visible shock crossing her face. Then her eyes flicked helplessly back toward Johnny again sitting motionless inside the wheelchair. “He can’t even look at anybody…” she whispered quietly. Diego slowly leaned one elbow against the chair arm afterward while studying Johnny’s face beneath the dim light. “No,” he answered softly. “He can.” His cold eyes remained fixed on Johnny afterward. “He simply doesn’t want to anymore.” Johnny still gave absolutely no reaction hearing Diego speak directly about him again. No anger. No fear. Nothing. The emptiness inside him now felt worse than crying somehow. Diego watched him for several more long seconds afterward before quietly adding, “Earlier he wouldn’t stop screaming.” The girl visibly flinched hearing that. Johnny’s fingers curled weakly once against the blanket over his lap afterward before going still again. Diego noticed immediately. A faint cruel smile touched his mouth beneath the shadows. “Huh,” he murmured softly. “Still alive after all.” The girl’s expression tightened painfully hearing him talk like that. She immediately stepped behind the wheelchair afterward and placed both hands firmly against the handles. “I’m taking him downstairs,” she said quietly now without fully looking toward Diego anymore. Diego stayed silent for several moments afterward. Then finally he gave one lazy dismissive wave with his gloved hand. “Do whatever Francesco wants.” The girl wasted no more time after that.

The wheelchair rolled softly across the dark wooden floor afterward while the girl carefully guided Johnny toward the door. Johnny remained completely limp inside the chair now, bruised shoulders slumped weakly beneath the oversized red lace fabric while blond hair fell messily across his pale face. He still stared downward toward his own legs the entire time. Not once did he glance back toward Diego. Not once did he speak. The girl swallowed hard while pushing him slowly toward the hallway outside because the silence surrounding Johnny now felt genuinely terrifying. Earlier tonight he had cried so violently she thought he might stop breathing altogether. Before that he screamed Diego’s name in panic while trying to fight him off the bed. Before even that he still glared at people. Still snapped bitter little insults through clenched teeth whenever somebody hurt him too much. But now? Nothing remained. He looked hollowed out completely. Like Diego had beaten every remaining piece of emotion out of him until only this empty shell stayed behind inside the wheelchair. The girl reached the doorway afterward before suddenly Diego spoke again behind them. “Joestar.” The sound of his voice instantly froze the hallway around them. The girl stopped moving the wheelchair immediately. Johnny however did not react at all this time. Not even the tiny tremor from earlier came now. He simply continued staring blankly toward his legs beneath the blanket while breathing weakly through split bruised lips. Diego slowly stood from the chair behind them afterward, shadows stretching sharply across his body beneath the dim yellow lights. “Not even one insult tonight?” he murmured quietly. Silence answered him. Johnny remained completely still inside the wheelchair. The girl slowly turned her head back toward Diego afterward, visibly unsettled now by how calm he still sounded after everything. Diego however kept his eyes fixed only on Johnny. “Interesting,” he murmured softly beneath his breath after another long pause. “You finally learned your place.” Johnny gave absolutely nothing back to him. No anger. No fear. No hatred. Nothing. The room stayed silent except for the weak buzzing lights overhead and Johnny’s shallow breathing. Then finally Diego looked away first. “Take him downstairs,” he said coldly afterward. The girl immediately obeyed, pushing the wheelchair quickly into the hallway while Johnny’s limp body shifted faintly with every movement. Even then he still never looked back once.