"You hear them."
"Hear what?"
"Cut it out."
"No, really. Hear what?"
"The voices, stupid."
"What do they say?"
Trey glowered at me, clearly exasperated that I was maintaining the myth so many other people persecuted him with—that only he could hear the voices. But it was true. We only seemed to occupy a single reality. There were two, and his had the fuller soundtrack.
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