Linden's laughter is rare and usually forced or uncomfortable. The exception is when he's drinking, during that fleeting point when he's just relaxed enough for it without being over the edge, sloppy and nearly out of his mind blackout-drunk. It's a brief window, but he's almost normal in this window; it's easy to see why he'd chase it again and again, that brief moment of flight before the inevitable and violent crash-landing.

"More expensive, for quantity or quality?" Linden asks, still slightly breathless. "Sometimes I wake up and can't believe my bar tabs."