Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 55: The Hardest Part

The next morning, I woke up in bed alone (unless you counted Mr. Fluffbutt).

Rocco's side was cold, so he'd been up for a while.

The blinds were still down, but for some reason the room seemed very bright. And cold. Shivering, I looked around. I hadn't been able to see much last night, because it was dark and I was half asleep, but now I could see that the bed took up most of the small room. There was just enough space to squeeze in a nightstand and a dresser. The door to the ensuite bathroom was partly open, and an acoustic guitar rested on a stand in the corner.

I tilted my head at it. Why would Rocco bring a guitar when he couldn't play because of his arm? I hoped he wasn't ignoring doctor's orders. I glanced at Mr. Fluffbutt, our little undercover voyeur. Maybe simply having it in the RV comforted Rocco just like Mr. Fluffbutt.

Deciding not to overthink things, as Rocco would say, I stretched and tried to figure out where I'd left my phone last night. To my surprise, I found it on the nightstand, partially obscured by the lamp, but plugged in and at a hundred percent. Rocco must've done that, because I didn't remember grabbing it before bed.

I smiled and picked it up. He thought of everything.

I had a bunch of missed texts and calls, so I reviewed them instead of wandering into the kitchen like my stomach wanted me to.

Some of them were from Sienna. She apologized for not being available yesterday. As I suspected, her mom's salon had been swamped to the point where the receptionist was trying to do hair and answer the phone at the same time. Her phone had died too, and she hadn't been able to charge it until later that night. After seeing my missed calls, she'd called me then Ji-Hyun, who'd filled her in on everything that was going on.

I chuckled as I read her texts. She sounded so enthusiastic about my meet-up with Rocco. I couldn't wait to talk to her in person, but for now a quick response would have to do.

Next up was...Dom.

I rubbed my eyes and read the text again to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

Dom: Shouldn't have snapped at you yesterday, but we were all freaked about Rocco. And to be fair, you can be really slow sometimes.

Was this supposed to be an apology? I rolled my eyes. Between him and Jae, I couldn't pick who was worse at them.

I wondered if Ji-Hyun had put him up to it. Judging from how they were bickering when he'd called looking for Rocco, the stress of the last two weeks was getting to everyone. I just hoped it wouldn't affect their reconciliation too much.

The last two texts were from my mom and Josh. She'd spent the night at her parents, because she was too tired to drive home, and he'd been towed back safely.

I barely resisted pumping my fist in the air.

My mom would not have been happy to know I'd spent the night in the woods with Rocco, and I was glad Julian wouldn't find out about me and Josh borrowing his car.

After crafting careful replies to both of them, I let out a big yawn and squinted at the blinds.

Why was it so bright? It wasn't even noon yet.

Curious, I got out of bed and made my way over to the window. I peeked out and gasped.

A white blanket of untouched snow stretched as far as the eye could see. The sun almost made it blinding; reflecting off of it and the icicle-laden trees with the intensity of a thousand flood lights. It looked like a postcard. I was surprised since the weather app hadn't said anything about snow. I stood there admiring the wintry landscape until I felt someone behind me. Lips coated with chapstick landed on my cheek at the same time an arm holding a steaming mug slid in front of my face.

"Mornin'." Rocco rasped in my ear. I shivered, but not because of the cold this time. I loved how his voice sounded in the mornings. It was always deeper than usual. And deliciously scratchy.

I accepted the mug shakily. "Morning."

"Mmm." Still behind me, his arms slipped around my waist and he kissed me again, but not on my cheek like I'd expected. This time his lips tickled my ear then nibbled.

I squeaked. To be honest, it was more of a shriek. I ended up spilling drops of what looked like hot chocolate on my hand and the hardwood floor.

I turned around slowly, shoulders up by my ears, to glare at Rocco. He looked like he was trying desperately not to laugh.

"Sorry. Didn't really think that one through. I couldn't help myself. Your ear was right there, and it was just so...small and cute."

You'd think he was talking about puppies.

"Can you even hear out of them?"

My eyes narrowed. "I should've suffocated you with my pillow last night."

He burst out laughing while I wiped the liquid off my hand. He took the cup back, blew on it, and handed it back. As soon as I took a sip of the hot chocolate, my desire to harm him disappeared. It was amazing! Rich and creamy with a hint of cinnamon, I could honestly say it was the best I'd ever had.

"Did you go full-on food shopping before coming out here? This definitely didn't come out of a box."

Rocco beamed. "I just picked up stuff that was easy to make, so I wouldn't starve."

"And no one recognized you?" Our faces were literally everywhere. On the internet, on trashy tabloids in grocery stores.

"Well..." And that was when his expression became an interesting mix of mischief and embarrassment."

"Oh, god. What?"

"I may or may not still have the plastic Spider-man mask we bought at the dollar store. And I may or may not be allowed back in the Quickmart twenty minutes from here," he admitted.

I stared at him then howled with laughter, trying not to spill any more hot chocolate on the floor.

What a way to start the day.

After a breakfast of burnt Eggo waffles and runny eggs ( that I made, because I wanted to try cooking for Rocco), we went outside to play in the snow. It was only a couple of inches deep, but we managed to scrape up enough for a snowball fight.

Rocco was merciless and had good aim, so I resorted to all sorts of cheating. I even ran back inside the RV to retrieve a plastic serving spoon I could use to sling snow at him.

When the battle ended in a draw, we walked to the waterfall we'd met in front of yesterday and admired it in all its frozen splendor. It was breathtaking— almost like frosted glass. But jagged and dangerous if you stood too close. Nature's art.

Rocco draped an arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder. This was the first moment of silence we'd had all day.

I gazed at it, wishing the stream of time could be frozen too. I wanted to stay out here with Rocco forever. I didn't want to go back to the real world.

Next to me, he shifted and cleared his throat. "I wanna say something, but I don't want you to take it the wrong way."

I stiffened, but smiled encouragingly. "Full transparency," I reminded him.

"I thought...I thought Misery Loves Company was cruel. I wish I could erase all the times it made you uncomfortable or sad. But on the other hand, if we hadn't done it we would've never met."

I thought about what my life would've been like if I hadn't done the show several times over the past few weeks. Enid and I would still be friends, and I'd have my blissful anonymity and privacy. No one that wasn't a family member or a neighbor or a classmate would know that there was a girl living in Pennsylvania whose mom had named her Misery.

But...I'd be lonely too. Enid would still be taking advantage of me and I wouldn't have let Sienna in— at least not for a while. I didn't know if I would've reconciled things with my mom or Josh either.

All of those things happened or were spurred on by the stress of Misery Loves Company.

I bit my lip, watching as Rocco grew more anxious by the second. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe rearrange his words, but I stopped him.

"It's OK," I said. "I feel the same way..."

We spent the rest of the day in the cozy RV, talking and getting to know each other even more.

I told him how my dad had split after holding me for the first time, and Rocco explained to me why he wouldn't recognize his mom if she passed him on the street.

"She left me in a car seat and put me on the hood of the van my dad and his friends were using to tour," Rocco said. He tried to sound neutral, indifferent. But I could tell just saying the words hurt him.

It was the worst thing I'd ever heard. Unimaginable, really. What if someone had taken him? What if it had been too hot or too cold that day? He might not have lived, and the thought of him not existing in this world was a horrific one.

"I don't even know her name. She just left a note telling my dad I was his and to have a nice life. After doing a DNA test, he realized it was a true."

That's why he was so adamant about knowing for sure whether Nic was his. The similarities were heartbreaking, and soon I found myself resenting Sage even more for putting him through this.

We were curled up on the couch together, my head resting on his lap while he stroked my hair. "You know how everyone thinks babies can't form memories?"

"Can't say I've ever thought about that, but go on."

"They're wrong. Babies can form memories— sometimes even in the womb— but they don't really keep them. They're overridden by newer memories."

Rocco cracked a smile as he twirled a curl around his finger. "Can I get you to do some of my homework?"

I remained serious. "I'm saying this, because I'm glad you can't remember that day. And from now on, I want to keep overriding it with memories. Memories of better stuff."

He stared down at me, many different emotions flashing through his hazel eyes. He leaned down slowly, inch by inch until his lips brushed mine softly. "This is going to be one of those memories," he whispered. "Better stuff for sure."

I finally cracked a smile and wrinkled my nose. He kissed it too.

"I'm sorry about your dad. He missed out on something special. I can't believe he's out there living not knowing how beautiful and smart and brave his daughter is."

When I looked away, embarrassed, he poked my cheek. "We don't have much luck in the parent department, huh?" I asked.

"Not especially, but...I know my grandparents love me. And your mom loves you even though that love wasn't always easy to see. I'm glad to hear she's trying."

The conversation took a more positive turn, and we started talking about music and what we wanted out of the future. When I told him I loved "Safety in Numbers" his whole face lit up, and we agreed on how coincidental the timing was.

"I can't believe it. You're a total Blue Vendetta fangirl now," Rocco teased.

"Shut up. Eli's my favorite member."

"Now you've gone too far."

His phone suddenly rang, cutting our banter short. I looked up at him as he peered at it in surprise.

"My grandparents are Facetiming me..." he murmured.

I laughed. "Impressive. When my mom first got her phone, she saw 'Safari' and thought she'd accidentally installed an African travel app."

He snickered and accepted the request.

"Cucciolo?" Giuliana's voice faded in and out. "Can you see me?"

"Yeah, but my signal isn't good, so don't worry if the screen freezes," Rocco replied. He smiled at her fondly. I slid under his raised arm and sat up, so he could speak with her comfortably.

"Dominic called yesterday and seemed to think you were here. When I told him you weren't, he suddenly 'remembered' you were with Eli— whose voice I heard in the background. So my question is: where are you, and why did it take all night and all morning for you to pick up?"

Uh oh. Giuliana wasn't messing around.

Rocco winced, once again confronted with the proof of how his disappearing act had worried us all. "You've been calling?"

To be fair, last night was so emotionally raw, I hadn't realized anyone had called or texted me either till this morning.

"Sorry. I— uh...needed to be alone, so I took the RV out."

"Out...?" Giuliana's voice rose. "Out of storage? Rocco Massimo Alden Segreti!"

I burst out laughing and immediately clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle it. When I regained control, I slid it down to whisper, "Massimo?"

Rocco groaned, face almost as red as it had been last night when he'd told me he loved me. "Nonna I—"

"Don't you nonna me. You did the same thing when you were fifteen, but I let you off the hook, because you didn't get very far and the car wasn't damaged. Plus I realized you needed to get some of that teen angst out. But you're eighteen now and should know you can't just run off and make people worry," Giuliana lectured.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," he admitted, ruffling the hair at the nape of his neck.

She huffed, but her voice softened. Apparently grandparents couldn't stay mad at their grandkids for long. "Just make sure to apologize to your friends. They sounded very panicked, but it was clear they didn't want to...what's that phrase you kids use? Snitch you out?"

That made me laugh again, prompting Giuliana to pause. "Is someone there with you?"

I stopped laughing, unsure of how she'd react to me being there. I pressed a finger against my lips and hoped Rocco would get the hint.

Instead, he grinned devilishly, threw an arm around my shoulders, and dragged me in front of the camera with him.

"I'm with Misery."

I waved awkwardly. As soon as we got off the phone, I was going to throttle him.

But Giuliana just smiled. "Hello, darling."

"Hi..."

Her hazel eyes warmed as she took in me and Rocco. "I'm glad you have someone there with you. Alone time is good, but in times of distress having someone who understands you is better."

Rocco nodded in agreement and squeezed me.

"Would you like to speak with your grandfather?"

"He's OK to talk?"

Giuliana beamed. "He's having a good day."

"Then...yeah."

"Soren? Soren, Rocco's on the phone," she announced.

There was movement offscreen, and soon enough Soren appeared next to his wife.

Again, it struck me how much Niccolo had resembled him. But something was different this time. During our first meeting, Soren's deep-set eyes had been glazed, unfocused. In fact, the only thing he could focus on was the anger he felt for his son. Now his dark eyes were present, his weathered but handsome face relaxed.

I glanced at Rocco. He was smiling and I felt his chest swell. Soren's brief reprieve from his disease  must've been few and far in-between.

"Hey gramps." Rocco's voice was thick with emotion. I squeezed his arm discreetly.

"Rocco?" Soren's Patrician's nose almost took up the entire screen when he leaned in. "Where are you?"

"Took the RV out with a friend."

His dark eyes lit up knowingly. "Any friend that has an appreciation for the great outdoors is OK in my book."

"She's actually more than a friend." Rocco glanced at me shyly. When I smiled, he said more confidently. "This is my girlfriend, Miz."

"Well, hello Liz."

I ignored that. "Hi."

But Rocco didn't. "It's Miz."

Soren turned to his wife. "What kind of name is that?" He was trying to whisper, but doing a terrible job.

"We'll talk about it later, dear. I've met her twice, and she is bellissima," Giuliana vouched with a wink.

Soren peered back at me. His eyes got that mischievous glint Niccolo and Rocco must have inherited from him. He leaned toward the screen again, covering one side of his mouth as if to tell a secret. "Name aside, she certainly is bellissima. But just take a look at your nonna. No one can say I didn't pass down good taste."

Giuliana giggled like a school girl and whacked his arm, while Rocco and I laughed. He turned to me and my breath almost caught in my throat. There was so much love and happiness on his face.

We ended up talking to his grandparents for an hour. They told me funny stories about Rocco's childhood and invited me to tour different state parks with them in the RV this summer. But two topics I noticed Rocco steered clear of were his dad and Blue Vendetta.

Nevertheless, the suspicious, angry man I'd seen when I'd first met Soren was gone, and I could tell Rocco was glad to have his grandpa back. If only for a day.

Hours later, Rocco and I were still cuddling on the couch, but this time he was on his back and I was in his arms. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and he'd finally made me the sandwich I'd paid for with a kiss last night. A ham and cheese sandwich with the works on King's Hawaiian bread. I'd never been more content in my life, so I had no problem ignoring that the magical day was coming to an end.

"You know I have to take you home eventually, right?" Rocco murmured sleepily into my hair.

"No." I pouted and buried my face into his neck.

I felt his Adam's apple bob against my cheek when he chuckled. "You missed school today."

"So?" Part of me couldn't believe I'd just said that. The thought of skipping school had given me hives not too long ago.

"How is there not a truancy officer after you? Please don't skip again. I feel like I'm corrupting you or something."

I propped myself up, so I could stare at Rocco's face. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

He grinned. "You're not ready for that answer, babe."

In the end, we secured the RV and Rocco drove it back to the super private and high tech storage unit he used. After clearing out the food in the fridge, we got into his Range Rover and left. I was reluctant the whole way home. I didn't want to return to the very real word of paparazzi and annoying neighbors and classmates. I didn't want to think about Sage and what she was planning.

I wanted to get right back in the RV and drive off with Rocco.

When he turned onto my street, we both slipped into high alert. There'd only been one or two vultures outside my house lately, and they usually left by sundown. But I didn't think anyone could call me naive anymore. I knew there was always a chance one was lurking, and if they snapped a pic of me and Rocco this whole thing would blow up again.

"I think we're good," I murmured, slowly scanning our surroundings. I didn't see any rustling bushes or suspicious shadows.

The tension bled out of Rocco's shoulders. "OK." He'd still pulled a beanie over his head just in case. He stopped the car a few doors down from my house before turning to me with a sad smile.

My heart sank. This was going to be the hard part, wasn't it?

The true test of our relationship, and what had fanned Sage's insecurities.

Rocco sighed, turning in his seat to run a thumb over one of my cheekbones. "The next few weeks aren't gonna be easy. I know the label will want me to join the press junket the guys are on right now. I have to help them...help them explain things. Save face."

I nodded. I understood, but that didn't make it easy to accept. Now that we'd cleared up all of our misunderstandings and exchanged the L word, I didn't want to be separated. I didn't want to sit through classes thinking about him or only communicate via text and Facetime. I wanted to be able to run my hands through his hair, kiss him, and hug him. I wanted to see him after a long day. Eat whatever he made me or burn the food I made him.

It was so unfair that after not seeing him for two weeks, I only got a day with him before we had to separate again for three weeks.

"Hey, don't do that," Rocco said softly, wiping the rogue tear trailing down my cheek. "I'm going to text you every day. And we can Facetime whenever you want."

"That's not enough."

He sighed. "I know, but we don't have another choice. I've gotta do this and I doubt your mom would let you miss more school to travel around with me." He perked up a bit. "Even with all the backlash, the label never cancelled the release party for 'Safety in Numbers.' Can you still make it?"

"Uh...will they let me come? They terminated my contract when the show ended, and they kind of wanted to sue Enid."

"But you're not Enid. You didn't try and ruin my reputation," he pointed out. "You'd be coming as my girlfriend. There's nothing they can say about that."

"Then, I'll come."

"I know it's not ideal, but I'll take every opportunity I can to see you."

I smiled. I was still sad and nervous about the weeks to come, but at least I knew he didn't want to be apart either. That he'd seize every hour, every minute, every second to be with me.

"Don't take any back roads to get to the highway. They don't plow around here." I reached for the door handle, but he stopped me.

"Wait." He licked his lips even though they didn't look chapped anymore. "Can you hold on to something for me?"

Confused, I raised both eyebrows. After a beat, he reached into the backseat and pulled something out of his duffel bag. It was small and a little tattered.

When Rocco slipped it into my hands, I realized it was a piece of his heart.

"I can't take Mr. Fluffbutt," I choked out. This was too much. He'd had the stuffed duck forever— there was no way I could take it.

"You mean you can't tell?'' Even in the dark interior of the car, I could see that his eyes were bright.

"Tell what?"

"That he fell in love with you. And even though he's been hanging with me for a while, he wants you now," Rocco explained. "It's kind of messed up— disloyal, even. But I can hardly blame him."

~~~

The next three weeks triggered an epiphany: tangible things were helpful.

Even though the grumpy cat calendar I ordered online didn't help time go by faster, crossing out a square at the end of each day was a lot more satisfying than staring at the sad pixels of my phone.

Having Mr. Fluffbutt also helped.

I still couldn't believe Rocco had trusted me with the last thing Niccolo had given him before his death. I snuggled with the one-eyed duck every night and squeezed him on days I was especially missing my boyfriend.

That didn't mean Rocco made himself scarce.

We texted, talked on the phone, or Facetimed every day. Sometimes all three.

Blue Vendetta was currently on what Rocco called a press junket. Meaning, they were promoting 'Safety in Numbers' while simultaneously trying to gain their fans' forgiveness and trust.

I watched Rocco, Eli, Dom, and Jae answer the same set of questions about the TMZ video on Conan, James Corden, Seth Meyers, and both Jimmys. Even Graham Norton got his turn.

It was hard to watch, but aside from a few bad moments, the boys held their own. Rocco admitted to the world that he used his nonna's maiden name, because his grandparents had wanted him to have a normal childhood. And when he grew up and decided to pursue music, he'd kept 'Alden,' because he knew 'Segreti' would garner undeserved praise or criticism. He'd wanted to make it or crash and burn entirely on his own.

Most of the late night hosts respected that and gave him props for not cashing in on his dead dad's name. More than one insisted it was his right not to reveal his paternity.

The questions about Sage and little Nic were trickier, but Rocco kept his answers vague and emphasized that he always tried to do the right thing.

Operation: Cinderella was another potential minefield, but Dom (with help from Jae) managed to navigate it without setting any off. He explained that Ackerman had made a mistake using the word "narrative" to address our relationship in the TMZ video. He'd liked me and we'd given things a shot, but ultimately we'd never been official and I'd fallen for Rocco instead— which he was happy about and supported.

The pics of us being a "normal couple" had already been linked to someone affiliated with Chip On Your Shoulder, so the fans would know it was a load of crap. But when you were gorgeous, rich, and famous people tended not to hold grudges and conveniently forget facts.

"Besides," Dom said on each late night show. "I'm seeing if I can work things out with someone whose been in my life for a long time."

That sent shockwaves through the BV fandom, and deterred them from focusing on the label's lie and obvious cover story.

The press junket was also solidified by their amazing live performances of 'Safety in Numbers'— even with a temporary guitarist subbing for Rocco due to his injury.

Winona had certainly coached them well. The best part was that Rocco refused to answer any questions about Enid, and my relationship with him.

The world knew my jealous ex-best friend had tried to betray me, and that I was dating Rocco Alden Segreti.

But that was it.

We weren't giving them any more.

Besides, sooner or later another famous person was going to do something stupid and draw the attention away from us completely.

In the meantime, I made both Mrs. Mayer and Mrs. Faulk proud by racking up more volunteer hours with Josh.

Seeing him fight memories of the car accident that had killed his parents to get me to Rocco had really endeared me to him, made me a lot less skittish. I didn't worry about him flipping a switch or plotting revenge. I truly believed he'd changed and was continuing to do so even though glimpses of his old personality inevitably made it through sometimes.

I think that's why one day while grabbing dinner after a shift at Beechmill Elementary, I asked him about the accident.

His burger paused near his mouth and he blinked slowly.

"Sorry," I back-peddled. "You don't have to tell me what happened. It must be...hard to talk about."

Josh set his burger down on the wide plate and just stared at it for a couple of seconds.

"Hey," I said softly. "Forget it. I shouldn't have brought it up."

He shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'd want to know if I were you. And...you've seen my scar."

I frowned, but kept silent, waiting to see what would happen next.

"There are thousands of car accidents every day, but most people still don't think they'll get into one," Josh said. It sounded like he was thinking out loud instead of talking to me.

"Were...you driving?" My chicken tenders lay mostly untouched on my plate.

"My dad was. But we were all in the car. We were going somewhere as a family, and arguing. It's funny, because I can't remember where we were going or what we were arguing about, but it was bad. Julian was siding with my dad like always, and my mom was...shopping on Amazon or something, because that's obviously more important. I told my dad I hated him. That I didn't want to be anything like him, and the next thing I knew there was a truck coming at us."

I covered my mouth, visualizing it all in my head. The size of the truck, its horns blaring as it barreled forward, the looks on Josh and his family's faces.

"They said my dad drifted into oncoming traffic," he explained, voice tight. "Him and my mom were killed instantly. Julian ended up in a coma for a few weeks, and I...well I..." He shut his mouth and swallowed hard.

"OK. It's OK. We can stop here."

"The truck was carrying stuff. Steel rods that were going to some construction site. The reason my parents died instantly— at least my dad— is because those steel rods got loose, and one of them—"

I shut my eyes. It sounded like a nightmare. Something straight out of a horror movie.

"It...got me too, but not all the way. They had to operate," Josh finished.

When my eyes opened they were wet. That was why he had that insane scar running up his chest. He'd come back to Beechmill sewn up with no parents. "I'm glad you're OK," I whispered.

His blue eyes were haunted, mouth a grim line. "Not OK...but better."

I nodded. If going through something like this ever healed, then it would take a long time.

I thought the conversation was over, but to my surprise he said more. "With my parents gone, I've been thinking about some stuff. The first time we volunteered, remember me walking you home and telling you I used to hate you?"

"Yeah." Where was this going? "You said the reason you hated me was because you thought I was faking being nice. That my mom had named me Misery for a reason, and I was just hiding what I really was."

He opened his mouth just as our dreary waitress came to check up on us. With her dark hair and flat brown eyes, she was basically April Ludgate from Parks and Rec come to life.

"Enjoying the food?" she asked, no inflection whatsoever.

Josh and I both looked at each other, then answered yes. It was only after she slithered off and took her dark cloud with her that he started talking again.

"I know why I thought that now." He moved a fry around in a pool of ketchup. "It was because of my parents. Outside of the house, my dad was nice and charming, and my mom was attentive, but at home they were...different. Not yelling and throwing pots and pans around different, but cold. Cruel, sometimes. It confused me. Made me think a lot of people pretended to be nice even though they were rotting inside."

Realizing people were not always what they seemed was such a grown up concept. An adult thing. In fact, some people never got it no matter how old they were. The fact that ten-year-old Josh had to learn it so quickly was disturbing. He'd never gotten a chance to trust anyone or let his guard down— especially around his family.

"I understand now," I said. "I wish I could go back in time and maybe try and show you that not all of us pretend to be someone else."

"I appreciate that, but you were just a kid too. It wasn't your responsibility to teach me that." Josh picked up the fry and popped it in his mouth. He looked me straight in the eye. "Besides, I realized I was wrong about you."

I flicked my crumpled straw wrapper at him and smiled. "I was wrong about you too."

~~~

This was supposed to be the second to last chapter, but I had to cut it in half, because I wrote over 10,000 words D: This story refuses to end, but it has to at some point.

I don't know if I'll have enough time, but I really want to post the second half tomorrow, so I can get to the last chapter.

Anyway, what did you think of Miz and Rocco's blissful day away from civilization?

What do you think will happen next, if anything?

And you've finally heard the fully story behind Josh's accident/why he is the way he is. His parents really did a number on him, didn't they?