Zack stops talking immediately, his eyes going wide. He stands, and his massive knees knock his mic off the table with a clatter. He doesn’t even seem to notice, staring at me like I’m a ghost. He looks… destroyed. His eyes are swollen, and his thick beard is tangled. There’s a coffee stain on his shirt. In short, he looks like a man who’s spent the last few hours recounting the biggest trauma of his life live on air. And for what? For me?