Dario’s point of view.
After a small prayer and a pep talk, I manage to gather a little strength, not much, but enough to convince my legs to move and go into the garage.
I take the first car that I get my hands on because right now I can't say I give a damn about what car I'll drive. To be honest, I would prefer the helicopter, but I need clearance and I don't know if I can fly right now, because I have a bigger problem.
The silence.
It is killing me, obstructing my airways, and clouding my mind. It's not any kind of silence, either. It's the kind of silence made out of s****l tension, and I hate it! I hate that I feel this stupid need to-- no, I don't feel anything. It's a little awkward, but that's it. Right?
“So… how was last night? Did you have fun?” A lot! f*****g and thinking a
