“I wanna watch,” he says. “I wanna see everything. Whatever you make. Whatever you do to it. I wanna be there. It’s—mine.”

He doesn’t know why but it feels like a visceral need. It’s his, it came out of him even if he didn’t make it. Kavinsky sighs and closes his eyes as he leans into Nick. He tries to relax. He might have something in his pockets to help him out, he can’t remember. He looks at Nick.

“Told you my dreams are real.”