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Covey flung around. His bloodshot eyes streamed tears and snot down his face. Dark stubble shadowed his cheeks and chin. He was a complete mess. Nothing like the confident Covey he knew from yesterday or the night market.

“The bar! Where is it?” He grabbed Jun’s shirt. “Have you seen my bar?”

Jun tried to yank Covey off, but he was much stronger than he looked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” he breathed nervously.

“The bar!” Covey screamed, spit flying on Jun’s face. He fisted Jun’s shirt and jerked him forward. “Where is the fucking bar?”

Jun tapped his arms as he tried to push him away. “I don’t know! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Covey let go and sagged onto the floor in the middle of his living room. “It’s fucking gone! None of you fuckers are helpful!”

Jun was about to give him another reassurance when Covey wailed and pushed him aside. He ran to the kitchen.

Jun reached for his phone as pots and pans clanged.

Connor: Guys Covey is acting weird

Augs: wat

Connor: He’s acting weird

Augs: ik tf that mean

Connor: I don’t know

Connor: He looks terrible and is screaming and throwing things and asking me for a bar?

Connor: How do I get him to a bar when he has a

The generic user icon with Robin’s name on top flashed. With a shaky hand, Jun brought the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”

“Are you alright?”

A rush of emotions came over him in the form of tears at the sound of his reassuring robotic voice. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Covey screamed again, followed by another loud crash in the kitchen. Jun dashed to the far side of the room, where a built-in wall TV sat cracked.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Robin said.

“I know,” said Jun. “I’m supposed to bring him to the studio right now. But he’s going nuts, ripping everything apart.”

There was a crackling sound, then Robin sighed. “Did he say anything?”

Glass shattered. A pained scream followed. Jun winced. “He asked me where the bar is. I don’t understand what he means by that!”

The crashes stopped. Covey’s footsteps sounded like they were coming closer. Jun moved himself into another corridor, trying to get out of Covey’s line of sight.

“Can you describe what he looks like right now?” Robin asked in a gentle tone behind their digitized voice.

“Uh, yeah,” said Jun. He backed down the corridor until he found a dark alcove near a closed door. He crouched against the wall, making himself small. “Red eyes. Sweating. Shaking. And I don’t know if you can hear, but he’s been screaming and crying ‘where’s the bar’ over and over again.”

There was a pause on the other line. Something tore in another room. Covey’s footsteps pounded somewhere Jun couldn’t place—but they were getting closer.

“It sounds like he’s having drug withdrawals,” said Robin.

Jun risked a glance around the corner. Covey was ripping apart the sofa with his bare hands. “It can make you that violent?”

“Yeah,” answered Robin.