"What the hell, Finn? It's like four am."

"Maaaayyy."

"Oh my god. You're drunk, like really, totally, completely drunk."

"Maayy, I missed youuu."

"Finn, you're drunk. You should go to bed. Are you even home?"

"Nooo, I want to talk to you."

"It's better to talk when you're sober."

"Have I been horrible, May?"

"What? No, of course not. Where is this coming from?"

"I let everybody down. Always."

"I'm sure that's not true. You've said it yourself. You're pretty social, you like hanging with your friends. I'm sure you're a great friend. You're a great friend to me."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You calm me when I'm freaking out. You always know just what to say. You give me space if I need it and you don't push me."

"But there's distance, May. Lately I've been busy. We don't talk. Not really."

"That's not your fault, Finn. Not at all."

"I..."

"Are you at your house?"

"Yeah."

"Go to sleep then. I'm tired, you must be too. We'll talk tomorrow, when you're sober, okay?"

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Finn."

"Goodnight."