Dominik’s style was to break into people’s places. Already be inside when they got there, or make his way inside as if he owned a key. He was boiling. He felt wronged, betrayed. He had to know. He had to know if Pollux had been telling the truth. He was so out of it that he stood at Lock’s door, and knocked. and actually waited until Lock opened. “Eighteen.” He hissed at him, as soon as Lock opened the door and had time to recognize him.

He had tried to call through the haze of the alcohol. He had laughed at the voicemail beep, like it was the funniest thing ever. And Lock didn’t pick up. He figured he might have not really deleted the number, but either way. Pollux’s words had gotten to him - although Dom would never admit it, he would always say he had decided to go to Lock on his own volition. It was hard navigating the streets intoxicated like he was. When he go to to Lock’s door, he was about to call. Really, he was. But his stomach turned, his head spun, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion like his body was too heavy. He passed out. A sharp feeling shook him back into consciousness. He opened his eyes, and saw him towering over him. “Lock!” He said, with an excited smile, having forgotten what he had come here to do. “I knew you’d change your mind!” He looked around, and blinked. “Wait... This is not my place... Where am I?”