Richie let out a short, jagged laugh and immediately smashed a plate over Eddie’s head. The spell broke. The violence returned, familiar and comforting in its brutality. As Eddie collapsed to the floor and Richie began to scream about the cost of porcelain, the Guest House Paradiso stood silent against the crashing waves—a monument to two souls who would rather destroy each other than face the silence of being alone.

"Do you ever think about the fish, Eddie?" Richie asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Eddie blinked, his brain whirring through the fog of cheap booze. "The ones in the sea, Richie?"