- 7 hours ago
The Price Of 99 Cents Ep
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Short filmTranscript
00:00I was sent away because of a 99 cent in-app purchase. That's it, that's the whole reason.
00:04My parents ran a strict, screen-free household, no gaming, no social media,
00:09no recreational devices of any kind. Dad worked in tech and believed, with the conviction of a
00:14man who'd built systems for a living, that the right rules applied early enough could prevent
00:17any outcome he didn't want. When I bought a prepaid burner phone and spent 99 cents on a
00:22mobile game, he found the transaction in a bank statement. He called it what he needed it to be,
00:26early-onset digital dependency, a warning sign we cannot ignore. He enrolled me in a wilderness
00:31therapy program, one of those behavioral reform camps buried in the backcountry, two states from
00:35home, and I was gone for three years. I came back the night Clara returned from Europe, New Year's
00:40Eve. The table was set, the house smelled like something my mother had been slow cooking since
00:44that afternoon, and everything was arranged to feel like a fresh start. My father said my name
00:48across the table. I shot to my feet so fast the chair scraped the floor. Resident 47, Julian Quinn,
00:54reporting. My mother's eyes filled immediately. Baby. Her voice broke on the word. You're home,
01:00you don't have to do that anymore. My father's jaw tightened. We said you there for your own good,
01:05is that really how you're going to start tonight? I pressed my shaking hands flat against my thighs
01:09and held them still. I wouldn't do that sir, everything I have came from you, I know my place.
01:14We ate. After, I offered to do the dishes. Through the kitchen wall, my father's voice carried,
01:19low and satisfied. Look how much he's matured, that program was the right call.
01:23My colleague's son got addicted to gaming and started connecting with the wrong people online.
01:27His whole trajectory collapsed. I spent three years making, sure that didn't happen to Julian,
01:32worth every penny. Dad, you sent me to hell, but you're going to understand that very soon.
01:37I looked through the kitchen window at the river bridge two blocks away. They launched fireworks
01:41from the water every New Year's Eve. When the first one went up, that would be the moment. A death
01:45that loud, that visible, would be enough to bring that place down. I came out of the kitchen and my
01:49mother was already waiting in the doorway. She pressed a slice of orange into my hand before I could say
01:54anything. My favorite. She had sent them to me every month for three years without fail,
01:58even at that place. I bit into it. I felt nothing. Thanks, mom. I want to go see the fireworks
02:04from
02:04the bridge. Can we meet there? She blinked, then smiled wide enough to reach her eyes.
02:09Of course we'll all go together. You don't have to ask like that baby.
02:13But wasn't not being obedient enough the reason you sent me away? She pulled me down to the couch and
02:17started going through the gift bags on the coffee table. Everything in here is something you like.
02:22We picked all of it. Clara leaned over and draped an arm around my shoulder. Mom,
02:27he's going to like mine best. She produced the latest iPhone from behind her back and held it out.
02:31Her eyes were warm with something trying to pass for closeness. My shoulder locked under her arm.
02:36Every muscle in my neck pulled taut, one by one, without permission. I forced a smile and stepped aside.
02:42Keep it Clara. I won't use it. She deflated and fell back against the cushions.
02:45My father watched the exchange and gave a single nod of approval.
02:49Take what your sister offers. I trust you've learned. You know better than to let a device
02:53run your life. He handed us each an envelope. Mine was thick. Clara's was thin.
02:57You missed years of holidays. This covers all of it. Buy whatever you want. If it's not enough,
03:03ask your mom. I held the envelope and looked around the room. Red and silver decorations.
03:07Everywhere. My mother, still, peeling fruit the way she, always had. My father sitting,
03:12slightly stiff the way he, always did when he was trying. Clara talking fast, filling.
03:17In every silence before it, could grow. They looked like they loved me. Why? Why did people
03:22who loved me choose that place? Without warning, my breathing started to go. Everything at the
03:26edges of my vision folded inward. A grip closed around my ankle, rough, familiar, pulling down.
03:31The voice landed right beside my ear, low and tight. How many times now? When are you going to
03:36stop making this harder than it has to be? Lie still. I said lie still. I bit down through the
03:41inside of my cheek and swallowed. The doorbell rang. While their attention snapped to the front door,
03:45I covered my mouth with one hand and moved fast down the hall to the bathroom. I turned the faucet
03:50on cold and held my wrists under it. Forced air in and out. On the shelf above the sink,
03:54my father's razor sat in its stand. I couldn't stop looking at it. The thought arrived the way it always
03:59did. Quiet, measured, like it was just presenting facts. You know how fast it would be. From wanting to
04:05come home to wanting to die. The distance was exactly three years. I tried before, in that place.
04:10A knotted towel from the bathroom rack. A basin full of water. I tried both. The consequences of
04:15being found were worse than what I've been trying to escape. A lot worse. So eventually I stopped
04:19trying. That didn't mean I wanted to live. What grew instead was something else entirely. Stay alive
04:24long enough to get out. Make your death loud enough to tear the walls down. Julian? My mother's voice
04:29from the hallway. We're about to head out. You okay in there? I set the razor back in the stand.
04:34Opened the door. She was waiting in the hall with a scarf folded over her arm. It's below freezing out
04:39there. She wrapped it around my neck and tucked the ends in, smoothing my collar as she went. I made
04:43this. Kept starting over because I kept dropping stitches. Her fingers tracked down toward my collar.
04:49Half an inch lower and she would have felt them. The scars. The new ones pressed over the old ones
04:54that
04:54never fully healed. Would you cry, mom? Or would you find a way to decide I brought it on myself?
04:59The Harmon family is already down by the river. She said, turning me toward the door. They headed
05:03out a few minutes ago. A name surfaced from somewhere I'd stopped looking. Avery. Quick eyes.
05:09Kind voice. The kind of person who made you feel like the room was slightly better organized for
05:13having her in it. We had a plan, a long time ago, before everything, to go see the snow in
05:18Berlin
05:18together. That version of me is so far away I can barely make out his outline. The last time I
05:23saw her
05:23she was just a kid. Now she's, she's so grown up and gorgeous. She's really made something of herself.
05:30My mother caught herself and pivoted. Julian, I know you were planning to study abroad. Your dad has
05:34already been looking into options. After the new year you can start the application process again.
05:38You'll have a fresh start. Mom, I don't have a future anymore. Everyone around us was bright-faced
05:43and loud. Turned toward the water. Toward midnight. A young couple passed and handed out sparklers,
05:48calling, happy new year, to anyone within reach. My parents and Clara called it back. A sparkler
05:53ended up in my hand. You haven't had one of these forever, right? Clara said. Take all three. I want
05:59you to have them. My mother nudged my father. Remember how he used to chase you around the
06:03backyard with those when he was little? My father smiled, a real one, not the careful kind, and pulled
06:09out his lighter. Go ahead. I walked a few feet ahead of them and turned back. Lit the first one.
06:13The spark
06:14burst gold and red between us, and through the light I watched their faces. Three years. Three
06:19visits. First year, Clara came alone. I cried on the back of her hand. I said please ask them to
06:24come get me. Please. I'll do anything they want. Please. She looked at the ground. I tried, Julian.
06:30Dad says you have to complete the full three-year program. That's the rule. Everyone around us was
06:36bright-faced and loud. Turned toward the water. Toward midnight. A young couple passed and handed out
06:41sparklers, calling, happy new year, to anyone within reach. My parents and Clara called it back.
06:46A sparkler ended up in my hand. You haven't had one of these forever, right? Clara said. Take all three.
06:52I want you to have them. My mother nudged my father. Remember how he used to chase you around the
06:57backyard with those when he was little? My father smiled, a real one, not the careful kind, and pulled
07:02out his lighter. Go ahead. I walked a few feet ahead of them and turned back. Lit the first one.
07:07The spark
07:07burst gold and red between us, and through the light I watched their faces. Three years. Three
07:12visits. First year. Clara came alone. I cried on the back of her hand. I said please ask them to
07:17come
07:18get me. Please. I'll do anything they want. Please. She looked at the ground. I tried, Julian. Dad says
07:24you have to complete the full three-year program. That's the rule. Three years. Three visits. First year.
07:31Clara came alone. I cried on the back of her hand. I said please ask them to come get me.
07:36Please.
07:36I'll do anything they want. Please. She looked at the ground. I tried, Julian. Dad says you have to
07:42complete the full three-year program. That's the rule. Second year. My mother came. I grabbed the
07:48sleeve of her coat and wouldn't let go. I said take me home. I'll be perfect. I swear I will.
07:53I'm dying
07:54here. I mean that literally. Please. She pried my hands off without looking at me while she did it.
07:59You're doing so well. Finish the program and we'll be there the day you graduate. Third year. My father
08:03said Clara was almost done with school. I'd be out soon. Everything was going to be fine. Julian
08:08Quinn was already gone by then. The boy standing in front of them was just whatever was left. Breathing.
08:13Upright. Waiting. The third sparkler faded out. My parents were still talking behind me. Laughing
08:18at something. I took one step back. Then another. Then I turned toward the bridge and started walking.
08:23My feet felt lighter with every block. Almost there. Almost over. Long time no see Julian Quinn.
08:29The voice came from behind me. Clear and warm and completely wrong for this moment. I stopped.
08:34She came around to face me. Since I wasn't turning. Long time no see Julian Quinn.
08:38The voice came from behind me. Clear and warm and completely wrong for this moment. I stopped.
08:43She came around to face me. Since I wasn't turning. You're not even gonna look at me?
08:47Avery's voice was a little older than I remembered. More settled. I stared at the logo on her sweatshirt.
08:52I didn't have the strength to raise my eyes. She held out a lit sparkler between us.
08:56I heard you might be looking at programs abroad again. She said. Keeping her voice easy.
09:00What is it? I saved all my old application materials. Everything. The whole package.
09:04I could bring it over tomorrow morning. I meant to say don't bother. My mouth stayed shut.
09:08I'll come find you in the morning. The snow in Berlin. She said. Quieter.
09:13It's everything we said it would be. You'll come and see it eventually right?
09:16Something hit me so hard in the chest I couldn't breathe. She still remembered.
09:20She was asking like it was still possible. My eyes burned. I had been completely certain
09:24I had nothing left to cry with. Someone called her name from the path. She glanced back. Then
09:29at me. That's my dad. Tomorrow morning. Okay. She walked back toward the lights. I stood there
09:34with the sparkler burning down to nothing in my hand. Why now? Why does someone have to show up
09:38right now and tell me she still remembers? My parents' voices carried over the crowd.
09:44Where did Julian go? Fireworks are starting.
09:47He's fine. He's been too isolated to go far. He'll find us when the crowd's thin out.
09:51Mom. My envelope was really that thin though.
09:54Clara. My father's sharper.
09:57Do you understand what this family gave up for your education? We sent Julian away. We handed you
10:02those years. He's home now. And we make it right. That's the end of it.
10:05The world went completely quiet. Sacrificed. We handed you those years. I had spent three years
10:10telling myself it was a miscalculation. A terrible mistake made by people who genuinely didn't know
10:15better. They knew exactly what they were choosing between. They chose her. They sent me to that place
10:20so Clara would have a clean record for her college applications. So nothing from our family would
10:24complicate her admissions file. The noise around me disappeared. The faces blurred into streaks of
10:28light. I walked. I reached the bridge. I closed my eyes. I let go of the railing. And I fell.
10:34No. The water hit like concrete from a hundred feet. Cold forced itself into my lungs and the
10:38pain was unlike anything. Total and absolute. My body fought without instruction. But underneath
10:43the pain. Underneath everything. Something unclenched. A feeling I hadn't felt in three
10:48years. Release. The cold went dark. I thought I would keep sinking. Then I wasn't sinking. I was
10:53floating. The cheering from the riverbanks had stopped. A different sound was spreading through
10:57the crowd. Someone jumped off the bridge. Are you serious right now? Call 911. Did somebody call
11:02911? No no. The fireworks show cut off mid-sequence. Emergency crew started pushing people back from
11:08the water. A searchlight swept the surface. My mother's hand-knit scarf floated up, bright
11:12against the dark water, exactly where I'd gone in. A rescue diver found me by it. They pulled
11:17me out. CPR on the dock. Bernie. Ambulance. Lights running. At the ER, the trauma team worked
11:23on me for over forty minutes. The attending physician stepped outside and found the officer
11:27on scene. Officer, this wasn't a clean drowning. The body has extensive scarring, old and new,
11:32multiple locations, non-drowning injuries. Pre-existing, significant. I'm required by law
11:37to flag this as a mandatory report. This goes to your sergeant before next of kin is contacted.
11:41My consciousness drifted back across the city to the apartment. My mother was pacing the living
11:45room in her coat, still wearing it. My father sat on the couch with his hands pressed flat against
11:50his knees. It's been ninety minutes. He's making a point. His voice was controlled, covering
11:55something else underneath. He's not gonna do something drastic. My mother didn't answer.
11:59The Harmon girl said she saw him walking toward the bridge. She's been texting.
12:04He doesn't have a key. He'll be back when he gets cold. Two blocks away, my mother's scarf
12:09was sealed in an evidence bag. The doorbell rang. Two officers, one detective. Are you the family of
12:15Julian Quinn? My mother's hand stayed on the door handle. Her voice came out in fragments.
12:20That's… yes, he's my son. What happened?
12:22At approximately 11.48 PM, Julian Quinn jumped from the pedestrian bridge over Riverside. He
12:27was recovered by water rescue and transported to Mercy General, where despite full resuscitatory
12:32efforts, he was pronounced dead at 1.17 AM. My mother's legs simply stopped holding her.
12:37She hit the floor and stayed there. My father tried to stand and couldn't manage it. She looked up at
12:42him
12:42from where she'd fallen, no words, just her face, and what was on it had no single name. The detective
12:47allowed them exactly one breath. I'm deeply sorry for your loss. I also need to inform you. The
12:52attending physician filed a mandatory report tonight. Your son's body has significant non-accidental
12:56injuries, multiple sites, multiple stages of healing. The medical examiner is conducting a
13:01full forensic workup, and this is now an act of investigation. We're gonna need your full cooperation.
13:05Clara threw herself in front of the detective. She was shaking so hard her words came out broken.
13:09You have the wrong family. My brother wouldn't… he wouldn't do this. Please tell me you have the
13:15wrong person. The detective set a photograph on the table. My mother's scarf. My jacket.
13:20Clara looked at them for three full seconds. Then she turned toward my bedroom door. The detective was
13:25already moving. May I? I stayed still. I knew what was in there. The note and the written account.
13:30Every name. Every detail. Every incident I could document in the months I spent preparing for this
13:34night. I had planned that part as carefully as everything else. I wanted it found. I needed it
13:39found. The notebook and the folded pages came out from under my mattress, sealed into evidence bags
13:44one by one. My father pulled himself upright. His face had caved in. Please. His voice came out wrong,
13:50flattened. Like something behind it had been cut. Where is he? Take me to where he is. Please,
13:57once. Just let me see my son once. Please. You'll see him. But first, all three of you need to
14:03come
14:03to the station with us. Tonight, the squad car was parked outside with its lights running.
14:08Neighbors had gathered on the sidewalk. My parents and Clara walked through the crowd to the car.
14:12Avery was standing on the sidewalk. She grabbed Clara's arm. What's happening? Where is Julian?
14:19What's going on? He jumped off the bridge tonight, sweetheart. I'm so sorry.
14:26Avery went completely still. In front of her, a police car, three shattered people,
14:31and every face around her confirming the same thing. She knew I was gone. I'm sorry, Avery. I
14:36meant to say something to you tonight. I never got the chance. The station's conference room. My mother
14:41was still crying, had not stopped. The same two lines cycling through what was left of her voice.
14:45Where is my son? Please let me see him. Where is he? My father sat with his head down. He
14:50looked like he
14:51had aged two decades between the apartment and this chair. A detective spread photographs across
14:55the table. Forensic documentation from the hospital. The injuries on my body, cataloged.
15:00My mother's hands flew up to cover her mouth. She barely made sound. What did they do to you?
15:06The second detective set the notebook on the table between them. My account. Three years of everything.
15:11According to your son's written statement and several witness accounts, Julian was enrolled in a
15:14residential wilderness therapy program. Walk me through that decision. It was a behavioral modification
15:19program. Closed campus. Structured residential environment. He stopped. He was showing what we
15:25believed were early signs of problematic digital attendancy. We wanted to intervene before it escalated.
15:32Mr. Quinn, Julian had no criminal record. No documented substance abuse. He was a college student with a
15:39clean academic history and no record of behavioral incidents prior to the enrollment date. He was 18 years
15:44old when you enrolled him. What specifically led you to choose a residential lockdown program over
15:49outpatient therapy? It was his decision. She looked at my father. Flat. No heat left in it. Just the fact.
15:57He said he'd researched the program. He told me he had visited the campus. He guaranteed me it was a
16:03safe
16:03environment. Patricia, I- Julian kept calling. Her voice started to come apart. He sent letters. He told us
16:09something was wrong. Over and over he told us he begged us to come get him. And you told me
16:13he was playing us.
16:14You said he was testing boundaries. You said resistance to the program was part of the process.
16:19I didn't know. You didn't want to know. She struck him. Open palm. He was telling us the truth every
16:24single time. And you made me doubt him. You made me leave him there. I didn't know. You didn't want
16:30to
16:30know. She struck him. Open palm. He was telling us the truth every single time. And you made me doubt
16:36him.
16:37You made me leave him there. Clara's palms were bleeding. She'd been pressing her nails into them since the
16:42apartment. She dropped to the floor in front of both of them. It was me. This happened because of me.
16:48If they hadn't needed to clear the way. My father came apart. Not piece by piece. All at once. Like
16:53a
16:53load-bearing wall giving out. He struck himself across the face. Once. Twice. A third time. The sound
16:59of it flat and ugly in the small room. I did this. I put him there and I kept him
17:03there and I told myself
17:04it was the right decision and I did this. Stop. My mother's voice cut across all of it. Stop talking.
17:10I was in the corner of the room. Watching. My chest ached. I had stopped hating them somewhere in year
17:15two. When I realized that hatred burned fuel I didn't have left. I wasn't here for revenge. I was
17:20here because places like that don't stay open unless everyone around them. The parents. The regulators.
17:24The neighbors. Makes a collective choice not to look. I needed someone to start looking. A detective
17:29slapped his palm flat on the table. Everyone in the room flinched. This is not the time. Right now
17:34you are going to give us everything. The enrollment paperwork. The contract. Every piece of communication
17:39you receive from that facility. Because we have a window. And if we lose it. This case gets
17:43exponentially harder. Do you understand? The facility is about 90 miles north. Rural county. Three year
17:50minimum contract. No unannounced visits. No outside interference with their curriculum. He was
17:58all the paperwork at home. I have everything. A third detective had been running the facility's
18:02registration records. Not only was the academy legally registered. It had appeared on a state
18:07approved list of behavioral programs twice. Past three consecutive inspections. Because they always
18:12knew when inspections were coming. We all did. We learned very early what happened to anyone who
18:16didn't have the right answers ready when the visitors showed up. By 4am. A joint two county operation
18:21was being coordinated. No one authorized a leak. By morning. My name was trending anyway. The headline
18:26was short and got everything wrong. 26 year old jumps from Riverside Bridge on New Year's Eve.
18:31Mental health crisis or something more. The comments section filled the way it always does.
18:35Who jumps in front of a crowd during fireworks? That's pure theater. That's wanting attention.
18:40Always something dramatic behind these things. Couldn't handle real life. His parents invested
18:44years trying to help him and this is how he repays them. Some people are just determined to
18:48self-destruct. Probably debt. Saw something like this last year. The theories multiplied. He'd had a
18:53breakdown. He'd gambled everything away online. He had a drug problem. His parents were blameless
18:58victims of an ungrateful son. My parents and Clara watched all of it and couldn't say a single word.
19:03Because the detectives had been explicit, any public statement would compromise the operation
19:07before it was ready. Then a post appeared on X from a verified account with a Berlin University
19:11affiliation. My name is Avery. The young man who died on New Year's Eve was my best friend growing up.
19:17The Julian I knew once bought every item off a street vendor's cart on a cold December night,
19:21just so the man could close up and go home, and gave everything to the sanitation crew working the
19:25block. He gave up a paid research placement to spend a semester tutoring kids in a rural district
19:30three hours from home, because he said those schools had no one else coming. I don't know what happened
19:34to him in these last three years. But I know who he was before. He doesn't deserve what's being said
19:38about him right now. Please stop. Give the truth time to surface. Give him that much. The comments
19:43section shifted. Not immediately. Not completely. But it moved. If she's defending him this hard,
19:48there's something else going on here. I'm waiting for actual information before I say anything else.
19:53Who was this guy, really? I watched her words on the screen. Something ached in whatever I still
19:58had left to feel with. When everyone else was building a story out of nothing, she remembered
20:02who I actually was. She stood up and said my name like it meant something. And the last thing I
20:06left
20:06her was this. I'm sorry, Avery. Just before dawn, the operation moved. Officers arrived at the academy
20:12campus before the morning staff shift, 47 employees detained before a single phone could be reached.
20:18312 residents. Some of them ran toward the officers the moment the doors opened.
20:22Some stood in the doorway and didn't move, didn't speak, just looked out with that flat,
20:26thousand-yard stare I recognized from the inside of my own skull. The equipment was brought out in
20:31daylight, in front of cameras. Restraint boards. Electrical devices. The tools they used that were
20:36designed not to leave marks, unless you fought back hard enough. I had fought back. Every arrest was
20:40photographed. Every piece of equipment catalogued. By mid-morning it was on every major outlet.
20:45The original comments disappeared. In their place. Julian Quinn, rest easy. Thank you for opening
20:50that door. I hope wherever you are, you're finally free. We should have looked sooner. I'm sorry we
20:55didn't look sooner. The replies to Avery's post filled with the same thing, over and over.
20:59I watched my mother from across the parking lot. When officers led the academy's director out in
21:04handcuffs past the cameras, she broke away from the officer beside her before anyone could react.
21:08She crossed the distance in seconds. She hit the director with everything she had,
21:12both hands, voice past language, past anything organized.
21:26Later, at the hospital, they let the family in. My mother walked to the table and put both hands on
21:31either side of my face. She stood there for a long time without moving. You can be angry at me.
21:36You should be angry. I'll carry that for the rest of my life.
21:41Clara knelt beside her and wrapped both arms around my arm and didn't say anything at all.
21:45Her shoulders shook so hard she looked like she might come apart. My father stood apart from both
21:50of them. He struck himself across the face, once, twice, sounds coming out of him that didn't form words.
21:55I did this. He said, over and over. This is what I did. My parents separated before the year was
22:01out,
22:01quietly, with the particular exhaustion of two people who had burned through everything they
22:05had and come out the other side with nothing left but wreckage. They sold the house and most of what
22:09was in it. The money went to a trauma recovery organization, the one that provided long-term
22:13psychiatric care for survivors of residential behavioral programs. My father said it was the
22:18only thing he could think to do that was real. Clara quit her job. She took a position at a
22:22community
22:22center. Physical, long hours work, the kind that doesn't leave enough space in your head for anything
22:27else to grow. Her paychecks went to the rural tutoring program where I'd volunteered. Every month,
22:32no exceptions. My mother went to the cemetery every week, sometimes twice. She brought flowers,
22:37sat until the light changed, and talked to me the way she had when I was very small, just talking,
22:42about nothing in particular, filling in the quiet. She leaned back against the headstone and said very
22:47softly. Julian, I miss you so much. Can I just sit here with you for a while? I was beside
22:54her. I had
22:54been beside her the whole time. Mom, I forgave you a long time ago. I wasn't sure that was what
22:59was
22:59keeping me here. But when I said it, even in silence, even to someone who couldn't hear, something in me
23:04loosened. Thunder moved low across the sky, distant and slow. My mother looked up. Is that you? She said.
23:11Telling me to go? She stood carefully, padded the top of the headstone once. Alright, I'll be back
23:16soon. She walked down the path and didn't look back. I sat with the quiet for a while. Then a
23:21black umbrella came around the corner. Avery. She stopped when she saw the grave. Stood there for a
23:25moment before she came any closer. She set two things down at the base of the stone. A bunch of
23:30iris flowers. And a small glass bottle. That's snow. From Berlin. I know it melted. But I brought it
23:38anyway. I'm going back. I can't stay here anymore. Every street in this city has you on it. I keep
23:43turning corners expecting to see you. I keep thinking if I had pushed harder. If I had tracked
23:48down where they sent you and showed up at the door. She pressed her fingertips to the engraving of my
23:52name. I'm sorry I didn't. The rain came back. Fine. Thin. Barely there. She stood up. She looked at the
23:59headstone one last time. Have a better one next time. She said. Wherever you end up, have a better one.
24:04She turned and walked back down the path through the gray morning. I watched her until she was gone.
24:08If there is a next time. I said to no one. And you're in it. I'll come. The world went
24:13soft at the
24:13edges. The last wait. The very last of it. Let go. I wasn't holding on to anything anymore. I went.
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