Johnny says nothing for a moment, staring at the floor, overwhelmed with shame and bitter resentment at himself for putting Seth in this position, however much he didn't mean to - it still feels like his fault.

"No," he says after a long pause. "It's - it's my burden. If you really want to, just... sit there, maybe. And don't look at anything."

Grimly, he reaches out and picks up another wad of papers - a little window of text standing out in the midst of absolute gibberish and story, and the neighboring page, its mirror image. Another pair, the window blacked-out, and then missing altogether.

What a clusterfuck. How did he ever get through this? It seems so distant now. So distant, and still so present and unavoidable.

"I'm sorry," he says again, even quieter.