"Yeah," he admits. He grabs a nacho and looks down at it thoughtfully. He rolls it in his fingers, keeping the melty cheese in one spot. "It's always different, though. Sometimes, I'm fucking up. Sometimes, I'm watching someone I care about die. Sometimes I'm trying to replay things in my head, figure out what I could've done differently." But he always wakes up here, again, and the story is still the same.