The increase in volume has him darting furtive looks over his shoulder, trying to gauge whether they're drawing people's attention, particularly those with the authority to act on it. Fortunately, it seems that no one's going to regard them with any genuine concern unless it looks like they're about to start going at each other's throats.

"So you're saying that it's just - not as bad as it could be." Really, when he considers it at length, that's the best he could ask for. It could be worse. It could be ripping through his life now, and burning through everyone like gasoline. It took years, the first time, until Alex began to accelerate it.

Maybe it's already happened.

The thought that maybe it never will is too bitterly optimistic for him to entertain it, even in theory.