The voices in my head . . .

Joel's lips smile a little, his eyes as cool, flat, and dead as ever. "You are not really such a bad man." He leans over to brush Vaughn's lips with a kiss.

Vaughn sits where he is, a wooden statue of himself in his surprise.

Joel says, "I, on the other hand, am." The smile fades, slightly. "But I am still a man. Even with the hole in my head."