Flower is looking out at the balcony, and he’s got a wrinkle of concern between his eyebrows. “Are you on your pills, Sid?” “Bud. I’ve been on the pills since I was twenty years old, of course I am. Also, still really, really single.” “Maybe,” Flower says slowly. “Maybe you should have been upping your doses.” “What—” Sid says, before following Flower’s gaze to the balcony. And his heart stops.