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The Aces lost to the Falconers, 4-3. It was only the first game in the playoff series, so they still had at least 3 more to seize a win, but it still hurt. Kent always hurt when they lost, he felt like, as captain, he was responsible for all of their losses. After locker room talks, everyone split up, headed home, or in the direction of the Vegas Strip. Kent, however had other plans. He’d hit a club when he was feeling a bit better.
Kent had a routine for every loss. He’d wander a bit, then settle down somewhere he couldn’t be found. He had tried the warehouse, but Swoops had found him there, and forced him to go home, so he settled for the spot outside next to one of the industrial sized dumpsters, so that he wouldn’t get rained on. Then he’d drink, or get cross-faded. The night of the first loss against the Falconers, he drank. Then he drank more, which voided that bottle. He pulled another out of his gear bag. He cracked the seal on the cap just as he heard one of the heavy doors open. He stilled his movements, hoping that he wouldn’t be noticed, but the light from the streetlamps probably made his reflection in the puddles around obvious. He thought for a second, realizing that he really didn’t give a shit, and opened the bottle, taking a long swig.
“Oh!” A Canadian voice, which was definitely not Jack’s, shouted. “Fitting for the rat to be in the trash. You’re looking for some scraps, eh? You won’t find your dignity there, bud.” The man came into view, and Kent didn’t know his name. He hadn’t played much, he was only on the fourth line.
“Yeah yeah,” Kent mused quietly, then took another gulp. More Falconers came out of the building, most of them choosing to ignore the man on the ground, walking towards the bus.
“You know ground is wet, you will be sick,” Tater said concernedly. For as much as they hated each other on the ice, Kent didn’t actually despise the large Russian. They’d gone out for drinks and dinner a few times.
“Thanks for the advice, Mashkov.” He hoped that the large group of tired hockey players would move on. He continued to drink, feeling himself get more and more dizzy.
“Kent,” started another Canadian voice, this one definitely belonging to Jack, “why are you drinking that? That’s straight Vodka.” Jack’s tone sounded disgusted, which, to Kent, seemed about right.
“I mean this in the nicest possible way, but can you guys fuck off? I was having a moment.” As an afterthought, he added, “with myself.”
“How much Vodka you drink already?” Tater asked.
Kent looked at the voided bottle. “About half of a bottle, plus,” he looked at the one he was holding, “another half of a bottle. No big deal.”
Tater laughed. “Back in Russia, we clap for ones who drink half bottle. Not easy.”
“Kent, you probably shouldn’t be drinking that much. There’s this thing called alcohol poisoning, and I don’t want you to have to go to the hospital.”
A switch flipped in Kent’s brain, taking him from chill to extremely paranoid. “No hospital.”
“Stop drinking, then.” Tater nodded at Jack’s words. Kent took one last swig, then capped the bottle, placing it gingerly in his bag.
“You guys missed your bus,” the blond slurred slightly.
“We told coach that we Uber.” Tater’s face lit up when he said Uber.
“Go Uber now, then.” Kent spoke with his eyes closed, trying to focus on his speech. “You’ve done your civic duty.”
“Someone should really escort --” Jack started, then was cut off.
“Why the hell do you care?” Kent yelled. “I’m sorry, it’s the alcohol.”
Jack scoffed. “I’m not sure it is.”
Normally, Kent would have made a big deal about that comment, but his impaired state caused him to brush it off. “If I promise not to drink any more tonight, will you guys leave?”
“Yes--” Jack started, but Alexei cut him off with a loud “ NO! ”
“Chill, Lexi.” Kent let his head drop. “You guys leave, I’ll go home.”
“I’m walk you there,” Alexei said adamantly. Jack’s expression was one of confusion.
Kent grabbed on to the wall to pull himself up. Once he was standing, he used the wall to balance himself. The heavy metal door opened again, but Kent decided turning his head would be a waste of energy. “I can handle myself.”
“That’s a goddamn lie, Parser, and you know it. Is this your new spot? Seriously, a dumpster?”
“Shut up, Swoops. I am a fully functional adult --” Kent stopped abruptly mid-sentence as a wave of nausea hit.
“Yeah, that validates your point. Come on, I’ll walk you home. You’re not driving, and neither am I.” Swoops turned to Jack and Tater. “Great game tonight, dudes.”
“You too,” Jack muttered quietly.
“Can we still go to his house? I’m want to say hi to Kit.”
Kent’s face lit up. “Kit! I love her. She’s so cute. The other day, she jumped on the counter and knocked some stuff down and it was so cute--”
“Kent won’t care. He’s not going to remember any of this in the morning, so if you guys want to, you can.” Kent sat back down ungracefully, which caused Swoops to look down at him. “Really? Can you even walk?”
“Prob-pssh. That word was too hard to say. Prolly. That works.”
Swoops helped him up, then turned back to Jack and Alexei. “Don’t judge him. He’s insane when he’s drunk. It’s fucking hilarious, but it’s not who he really is.”
Just as Swoops let go of Kent’s arm, he faceplanted, hitting the ground so quickly that no one could catch him.
“Jeff, I can’t walk.”
Swoops sighed. “I’m ragdolling you. Puke on me and I will never forgive you.” Kent was hastily thrown over his teammate’s shoulder.
“Can Tater carry me instead?” the blond asked quietly.
“Kenny --” Jeff started.
“ No. ”
“Shit, I’m sorry, I forgot. I’m a little drunk, too, Kens. Give me a break.”
Kent looked back at Jack, whose eyes were downcast. Kent kept staring until Jack inevitably looked up, caused the two to share a very uncomfortable sliver of eye contact, and quickly glanced away.
“Sorry I snapped. It’s fine, Jeffy.”
“I’m carry him?” Tater chimed in.
“Do you want to?” Swoops responded. “He might throw up on you. He’ll stare at your butt the entire time, too.”
“Not my first time pick him up. Remember game last year? Kent rushing Goalie Snowy? I’m also pick him up then.”
“Okay.”
Kent’s stomach lurched as he was passed upwards, and settled as he was placed over Alexei’s shoulder. Alexei was bigger than Swoops, however, so instead of being upside down, Kent was able to rest his head on Tater’s shoulder. He took advantage of that, nuzzling his face into the crook of the neck of the man who was so nice to carry him.
“Tater, if he starts kissing your neck, or being weird like that, just let me know and I’ll take him back. He’s very... strange when he’s drunk.” Kent lifted his head to look up at Jack, who was trailing behind them.
“Zimms, are you okay?” Kent shook his head at his mistake. “Sorry, not Zimms, Jack.”
“I was supposed to call someone like, an hour ago.”
Tater sped up as he started talking. “You needed to call tiny boyfriend! I forget. Ask him make me more pie.”
Just like that, Kent Parson broke more than he had before. “Oh, you have a boyfriend?” He hoped the snark in his voice was not evident -- Kent had no malice towards Jack’s new boyfriend. He didn’t even know why he had thought that he still had a chance. “I’m happy for you, dude.”
“His tiny boyfriend, B, is favorite. He bring me pie every time he visits.”
Kent looked back at Jack, who seemed very uncomfortable. “Does he make you happy?” Jack hesitated, then nodded. “Then don’t be uncomfy. Call him.”
Swoops interjected. “Kens, are you sure you can handle that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m drunk enough to try.”
Jack sighed, and pulled out his phone.
“ Hey, Bits. How are you? Yeah, I’m sorry. I got caught up --. Tater and I were walking out, and we saw Kent --. Babe, let me explain. He was fucked up. Still is. So we’re escorting him home. No, Tater is carrying him.”
Kent went back to burying his head in the crook of Tater’s neck, hoping that he would be able to ignore the conversation.
“The game was great. Yeah, the hatty felt awesome. Tomorrow, I think. I’ll check on the time. You don’t have to come get me from the airport! Fine. I love you, I’ll text you when I get back to the hotel. If you respond, I’ll be mad, you have a test tomorrow. Yeah, yeah, love you.”
“Not like you to be so quiet, especially when you’re smashed.” Jeff started. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, you know what alcohol does to me.”
“You’re a happy drunk, Kent.” Kent sighed. His stomach was turning, and he didn’t know why. He wanted to blame the alcohol, but he was less and less sure that it was the culprit. He had gotten so good at repressing everything that he felt, but being near someone he had loved so much for so long was affecting him, and the fact that Jack had a new boyfriend just drove the nail in further.
Tater turned his head, bumping his nose against Kent’s. “You okay?” he whispered. “My shirt is wet, you are cry.”
“I’m fine.”
“Even when drunk, you say you are fine? When I drunk, I tell everything.” Alexei sighed as they started up the stairs to Kent’s complex. “Is okay not to be okay.”
Kent didn’t acknowledge anything until he was being gently placed in his bed. Alexei asked if he could take off Kent’s shoes in a whisper. Kent nodded. He felt weird. He wasn’t sad, but not happy either. He felt empty.
“Goodnight, Kenny,” Alexei whispered. It didn’t hurt as much that time. Before he could leave, Kent sat up, and reached out until he had grabbed the other man’s hand.
“Alexei, thank you.”
He shrugged, barely visible in the darkness. “Is only fair. You are friend.”
Kent smiled. It was half forced, but the other half came on its own. “Do you want to stay? It’s late. Swoops probably has the guest room already. He generally does.”
“You not seem drunk.”
“I’m good at faking sobriety.” Kent coughed. “I’m having some drunk thoughts, though, dude.”
“Tell me?”
“You can’t be seri--”
“If you not want that, I understand. I’m want to listen.” Kent patted the spot next to him, scooting closer to the edge on his side. “I can stand.”
“Or you could be comfortable. Might be a while. You sure you want to know?” Tater conceded, and took off his shoes. Once he sat down, Kent laid back down. “You know what happened between Jack and I, right?” Tater nodded. “I just wanted to apologize to him, you know? I mean, I know we were both in the wrong, but I can’t help but feel that it was all my fault. He repressed the fact that it happened, I made up some stuff in my head that made me believe he loved me back, and I kept going to him. I went to every Kegster his freshman year. I got mad, like really fucking pissed. Then I heard he was dating someone, around his sophomore year, and I came back without a reason. I told him I missed him, cause I did, and he told me to fuck off. I kept coming back, and telling him that I missed him, and he kept telling me to grow up. Then, in an interview, last year, remember that first game in Providence? The one where I took out the net and you threatened my life? He said that what we were was in the past. I want to believe that I’m over him, but I’m still stuck in the same spot. I had so many rebounds in so little time, oh my God. I felt so disgusting, I still do. Wait -- why am I telling you this?”
“You are hurting. I’m try to help.”
“Thank y--”
“Is good to talk about, you know? Better than keeping inside.”
“I just wish I could tell him, Alexei.”
“Why don’t you?”
Kent sighed. “It’s not simple. Whenever I try to talk to him, he doesn’t let me. I wouldn’t let me either, I mean, I’m a fucking wreck.”
“I’m not think you’re a wreck. Also, I’m think Jack has been listen.”
“You think he’s been eavesdropping?” Alexei nodded, quietly repeating the word. “Jack, are you out there?”
There was no response, but the door opened slowly.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Kent started, sitting up. He got to his feet unsteadily. “Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck everything.” He slipped his shoes on.
“Kent, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” Jack said. “I heard my name and thought you were trying to get my attention, but then I kind of didn’t leave.”
“Fuck you.” Kent stormed over to the door, which was blocked by Jack. “Move, please.”
“You talked for five minutes about how we need to talk this out!”
“That was hypothetical. Move.” Jack didn’t budge, except for widening his stance to make the path even more closed. “Fucking move, Jack.”
“We’re talking!”
“No, we’re not. I was having a private conversation with my friend , until you rudely listened to all of it. Fuck off.”
“I’m not moving.”
Kent turned around. “There’s some ledges and a fire escape out this window, then, I’ll make that work.”
“You can’t be serious.” Jack grabbed Kent’s shoulder on his retreat.
Kent froze. He tensed up, body going rigid.
“Don't touch me,” he whispered.
Jack didn't let go.
“Don't fucking touch me! Get off! Off!” Kent’s screaming awoke Tater, who had drifted asleep when Jack started talking. He jumped up and pulled Jack’s hand off of Kent’s shoulder, stepping in between them. Swoops barged in the room, glaring when he saw Kent on the floor, head in his hands.
“You touched him without asking, didn't you?” Swoops asked Jack, who was staring blankly. “He’ll be okay.”
“Kent,” Jack started. “What happened to you?”
When Kent didn't respond, Jeff broke the silence. “A lot of shit. He made some bad choices, and people took advantage of that.”
“He's turn it off on ice?” Alexei asked from where he was kneeling next to Kent.
“He's fine with checking. Manly-man pats are also okay. He can't deal with affection very well - only certain people can touch him without asking. He freaks out and shuts down, like this.” Jeff kneeled down next to him, hovering a hand over his shoulder. “This okay?”
Kent nodded. Jeff placed his hand on Kent’s shoulder, rubbing light circles over the tense muscle.
“Jack, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to flip out. Most of the time I can control it, but the alcohol--”
“It's fine.”
Kent slumped, leaning onto Jeff’s chest. His body jolted with a sob he attempted to stifle. “This isn't your fault. I mean, I don't know if you think that, but it's not your fault.” Kent let Jeff rake fingers through his hair. “I promise.” He clutched Jeff’s shirt. “I'm sorry I'm such a mess -- I really didn't want you to see this-”
“Kent. Look at me.” Jack’s tone was assertive. “Don't tell me that this isn't my fault.”
“It's not your fault.”
“If I hadn't --”
“Jack, if I was good enough, nothing would have ever fallen apart. Everything would be fine. You wouldn't have almost died, I wouldn't be like this, because I would be enough.” Kent gasped for air through tearless sobs. “I'm sorry.”
“Hey, Kens, you're good enough. I know that's not eloquent, but you're good enough. You prove that over and over again, day after day.” Swoops buried his face in Kent’s hair, mumbling “you're good enough. You always have been, and you always will be.”
“I'm--” Jack cut Kent off.
“You're good enough. You always have been. You were the best friend I ever had. We were just in a crazy situation, and I never, uh,”
“You never loved me.”
“As a friend, yes. Romantically, no.”
“Oh.”
“Kent, to be fair, I didn't think you loved me, either. I didn't know until my first year at Samwell.”
“It's fine.” The room was silent except for the sounds of breathing. “Don't look at me like I'm an injured party.”
“Parser, have you gone to any therapy sessions yet?” Jeff asked.
“Dude, no. I'm not broken. They can't fix me.”
“Therapy not only for broken, Kenny. I'm go therapy sometimes, if something bad happens. I'm feel better after.”
“Thanks, Tater, but I'm also not about to bring up all this shit. I have it on lockdown pretty well.”
“Kent. I've gotten over what happened by being upfront with what I'm feeling. Your feelings aren't dumb,” Jack said.
“Thanks for the closure, at least.” Kent wiped his eyes. “You guys should probably go. It's really late.”
“I'm not leaving you,” Swoops muttered, face still pressed into Kent’s hair.
“Why not?”
“Because I know you.”
“Kenny, I'm sorry.” Jack’s eyes were facing the floor. “I wasn't really thinking about you when I did what I did. I was thinking about me, and what would be easiest for me.”
“I get that. It's not your fault.”
“I'm not done. Kent, you,” he sighed, “you got everything I wanted. You were everything I was set out to be. I became nothing.”
“You're not nothing. Don't say that.”
“I'm sorry. I feel like I've made you seem like a villain, but you're not. You're a great person, but when I, uh, fell, you got hurt too.” Jack sat down in front of Kent. “Can we start over?”
The blond sighed. “I'm not sure that I want that.”
“What?”
“I don’t think I want that. We were best friends, once. I don’t want to erase that.
“Goddamnit, Kent!” Jack yelled. “Why can't you ever let anything go?”
“I don't think you understand what you did!” Kent shouted back. He tried to stand up, but Jeff pulled him back down. “My fucking best friend, the guy that I think is the love of my life almost dies, and then shuts me out. I tried to call you every day for over a year. I didn't have any contact with you until that first Kegster. The only contact I had with any Zimmermann was when your dad called me, and all he said was ‘this is not your fault’. So please, Zimms, just tell me what I did wrong and I'll never talk to you again. That's all I want to know.”
“Kenny, you never did anything wrong. I just didn't want to be around you because you were everything I was supposed to be, and that hurt. Then, when you came back, full force, I wasn't ready. I know I was a bit rude, but, to be fair, so were you.”
“I was hurt.”
“So was I.” Jack stretched. “Kent, go to therapy. It'll help you. I promise.”
“Your promises are shit, and you know that.”
Jack took a deep breath. “What have I ever promised you?”
“That you would always be there for me.”
“And? I never said I wasn't. You just never asked.”
“You legitimately told me to go fuck myself far away from wherever you are.”
“You probably deserved that!”
“Whatever. Just go.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“What's there to say?”
“Pushing you away was a bad idea, let's be friends?”
“Fuck you.”
“Kens. You never get the chance to talk to him. Maybe this conversation would help,” Swoops interjected. “What you're doing isn't healthy. Pushing everything you feel into the back of your mind is bad, man. I'm here with you, buddy.”
“Thanks, Swoops. I still don't want to talk to him.”
“I'm right here,” Jack said exasperatedly. “Can we just talk, please, Kenny.”
“Just don't ask stupid questions.”
Jack smiled. “Okay.”
Tater climbed on to Kent’s bed, claiming in botched language that he was too tired to speak English.
“What can I do to fix this? You were my best friend, Kenny. I don't want that to fall away.”
“I told you I missed you. You yelled at me.”
“You didn't tell me to stop yelling! You just flipped out and told me I was worthless. That's rude, Kent.”
“You yelled at me. You had never yelled at me.”
“You should have just let me keep ghosting.”
“I missed you! What the hell did you expect, Jack?”
“I expected you to understand--”
“You know I don't understand things very well, Zimms.”
“Yeah I know, you always have to have your way. No one else can ever be right.”
“I'm trying to get better!”
“I did what I needed to to do survive. I didn't want to let you go, but it was what was best. You know that. You just won't admit it. Let. It. Go. Stop living in the past.” Jack let himself breathe, wiping at his eyes. “ Tu sais que je déteste quand tu m’entends pas.”
“Je sais, mais,” Kent took a breath, “ tu me manques. Je ne suis pas complet sans toi.”
“You are complete. You just haven't found out how yet.” Jack reached down to grab Kent’s hand, but hesitated. After a nod of permission, he took it. “I have a boyfriend that I love, you get that. I want my best friend back. You're right. What happened in the past did happen, but you can't stay there. The world is going to keep moving. Find someone who loves you as strongly as you love them. Don't change for anyone. And, don't hesitate to call. I'm your friend. I'm here for you.”
“Why did you not want me back?”
“Honestly, at the Kegsters, the way you came on to me kind of made me think you just missed the sex.”
“Oh. Well.”
“You never said otherwise.”
“I guess I didn't.”
“How are you acting so sober right now?”
Kent laughed. “One bottle of Vodka against my alcohol tolerance? I'm not a fucking lightweight. You even know who you're dealing with here? Kent fucking Parson.”
That forced Jack, Kent, and Jeff into forceful laughs. Swoops shoved Kent off of his lap, muttering something about brushing his teeth.
“I was drunk before, though. I just deal with it pretty quickly.”
“Speaking of dealing with things,” Jack started, quietly, “will you consider going to therapy?”
“They'll just put me on meds. I tried a bunch of different therapists -- they all wanted to send me to psychiatrists to put me on meds. After what happened to you, I just couldn't do it.”
“Try again. Be blunt. No meds, if you think you can't handle it, although they do make non-addictive ones. I promise you it'll help. You heard Tater -- even he goes to therapy.”
“But nothing bad has ever happened to me?”
“Kent, your best friend almost died, and then ghosted you! I'd call that bad. Even if nothing bad had happened to you, it'd still be okay to go to therapy. Even without the pressure from the Draft, sometimes my brain is still like ‘fuck you’ and I'll get super sad or have panic attacks, and that's okay. Therapy really does help.”
“Your brain is like ‘fuck you’?”
“Yeah. Thoughts you can't shake?”
“Oh. I know those.”
“You can work through them. Maybe they won't go away, but they'll certainly get better.”
“Oh, I’m Jack Zimmermann and I say things like certainly,” Kent said in a British accent.
“I'm Canadian!”
“Whatever you say, dude.”
Jack sighed, looking tiredly into the distance. “I'm just happy you don't hate me.”
“Oh I hate you a little bit. What you did to me was pretty fucked up. You have the right to hate me, too. I said some shitty things, and I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry too.”
“Friends?”
Kent caught Jack’s eyes. “Nothing more?”
“Nope.”
“Friends,” he said with a smile. “Friends.” Kent thought for a second. “Friends compliment friends hat tricks, right?”
“Thanks.”
“It was fucking sick!” Jeff shouted from the other room. “ His goddamn slapshot is so strong what the fuck!”
“Hell yea it is, Swoopster!” Kent shouted back, grin plastered on his face.
“Kenny, if I hugged you, would that be okay?”
“I might start crying.”
“Me too.”
“Then okay.”
Jack wrapped his arms around Kent, who quickly reciprocated. A lot had changed, but Jack’s arms had not. He was still warm, safe, maybe a bit more apprehensive, but warm all the same. Kent let a few tears slip, but Jack didn't seem to notice.
“Parser, you fucking sap. Come on, it's 3 am,” Jeff said from the doorway. His tone was sarcastic, but Kent saw the prideful smile on his face.
“Jack, don't turn around. Swoops forgot to put clothes back on.”
“I'm not naked!”
“You're indecent.”
“What matters,” he struck a pose, “is covered.”
“Jeff. You're fucking ripped. It all matters.”
Swoops laughed. “That's fuckin gay, man.”
“You're gay,” Kent responded.
“You guessed it. Now stop the awkward embrace and go to bed. Jack, you and Alexei staying?”
Jack let go of Kent. “I mean, I think Tater’s asleep, it wouldn't make sense to wake him up. Is the couch okay?”
“Yeah, or you could stay with Tater,” Kent started, looking over at his bed. Alexei was sprawled out, taking up all possible space. His mouth was open, and he was snoring slightly. “On second thought, you could stay in the guest room, Swoops and I could take the couch.”
“It's fine. That couch is pretty comfortable.”
“That's why I bought it.”
“I'll go pull it out,” Swoops said as he left, laughing immaturely because he said ‘pull out’.
Jack gave Kent a knowing look. “Kent Parson and Jeff Troy, huh? Las Vegas’s next hot celeb power couple?”
“No!” Kent gasped. When Jack rolled his eyes, he added “like, once, but never again.”
“You said the same thing about someone else, Kenny.”
“Okay, Jack, he's hot, we’re both gay, and he thought I was hot, too. Perfect conditions. It happened once, like a year ago.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Damn, you've gotten snarky, Zimms.”
“Fuck off.”
“Kens, come on! I don’t want to have to pour water on you to wake you up tomorrow morning!” Swoops shouted, more insistently this time.
He looked around his room, making sure there was nothing he needed to sleep. Once he was sure, he walked out the door, mumbling a quick goodnight to Jack. A second later, he came back into the doorway.
“Hey, Jack?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry about all this.”
Jack sighed. “It’s as much my fault as it is yours. I’m sorry too.”
“And Jack?”
“Yeah?”
Kent smiled wide. He had his friend back.“Thank you.”
Jack also broke into a grin, skin around his eyes crinkling. “Yeah, Kenny. Anytime. Thank you.”
Kent left the doorway, walking down the hall to the guest room. Swoops was lying on top of the covers, tapping away on his phone. The lights were off, but beams shone through the blinds, illuminating the wood floor and Jeff’s legs.
“Come on man, take your jeans off. You are not laying next to me in jeans.”
Kent did as he was told, and on second thought, took off his shirt. He didn’t care about being indecent with Jeff. They were hockey dudes, nudity meant nothing. As he got into bed, he immediately cuddled up next to his teammate, placing his head on Jeff’s bare chest. Jeff naturally started running his hands through Kent’s hair. He always did that.
“Did everything go okay?”
Kent sat up so he could look Swoops in the eyes. “Yeah, I think it did.”
Swoops followed suit, also stretching his way into an upright position. “I’m proud of you, you know. I can’t know how you’re feeling, but I can tell that that wasn’t easy for you.”
Kent laughed. “It wasn’t, but thank you for caring. Goddamn, thanks for just being here.”
Swoops held out his arms so Kent could climb into an embrace. “What brought all of this on?”
Kent took a deep breath. “I don’t say this enough, but I’m glad you’re in my life. I love you, man.”
“Love you too, Kens.” Swoops pressed a closed mouth kiss to the top of Kent’s head. “It is late. We should sleep.”
“Okay.”