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Dave takes you up on the roof that night and after you’ve worked up a sweat, he lets you trace the scars on his body and tells you the stories of how they happened. The long, brutal line down his right calf is from a dog attack. You count the dots on either side from the stitches and he lies with his feet in your lap looking up at the stars, quiet and somber and when you don’t talk for a long while he starts to sing and it feels a lot nicer than anything you’ve felt in a while.
Or, Dave copes, Rose deals, and no one really lives.