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Imagine for a moment that you're sitting in the theater. The movie theater. You've got two tickets to Trolls World Tour, starring Anna Kendrick and Justin Timberlake. Your wife is beside you. She's excited; all she's been taking about all week has been the new Trolls movie and that little aluminum guy who you can never remember the name of but you know he's got that disparately deep voice. The one who they call baby Yoga or something. About 20 minutes into the film, the movie switches to Jurassic Park. It's your favorite flick. You saw it in theaters on release day with your girlfriend, who your wife thinks you talk about too much. You put your arm around her when the T-Rex was approaching the car and the water in the cup was shaking. That was the night of your first kiss. During the credit roll you two shared a knowing and longing look, a look that meant you two both thought your entire worlds were overlapping. But that was then. This is now.

What's a woman, Finn? She's why we do anything we do. She's why we wake up and don't fall right back asleep. She's why we get back up. She's that light in your eye. She's the intense calm and confidence over you. She's why you'd kill. She's the seasonal decor. She's the detail. She's the home. She's why your mind is full. She's where you want to be. She's that new idea. She's the heat you feel on your face. She's a sly look. She's frustration. She's passion. She's going the long way. She's your bravery. She's a step ahead. She's why you check the weather. She's why you put on your seatbelt. She's a hard goodbye. She's a restless mind. She's that new sound. She's draped across your shoulders. She's around your waist. She's your reference. She's why you want to know. She's why you'll be here next year. She's why you're hungry. She's rhythm. She's the only thing.

The fireplace crackled, and a soft gust of wind sailed past, barely audible. Finn was sitting outside on a couch that was far too big. His neck was cold, but he couldn't go inside. He hadn't sorted through all the thoughts piling up beyond the walls of his mind. He was loved in there, he could hear faint revelry just yards away. At this moment, he didn't need to be loved. He wanted to feel clarity, like what he was marching towards was what he wanted. He wanted to know he wouldn't feel the suffocating regret. He inhaled until it hurt; he didn't want to breathe. Maybe if he slumped over on the pillow next to him he would wake up and it would all make sense. He'd be lonely somewhere else. But for how long?

Goat Williker readjusts his collar as Finn walks in his office. "So, Mr. Freeesh, it's been a while." Finn sits down in front of the desk, his mind racing through all the possible outcomes of this meeting. It's true, he hadn't made even one commit this year so far. But he was working. He knew if he could just explain what he was working on, he could get out of here with - Goat slammed his fist on the desk. "We have shipped one game this decade, Mr. Freeesh. One." Goat scolded. "I have programmers pushing things though constantly. All waiting for you to get your hands on them." Finn's chest felt tight and his stomach was knotted. His success with the Blagmoz release meant everyone wanted his hands to touch everything that got pushed into the main build. But Finn was slow. Coming off a tumultuous trip back to his family home, he wasn't quite ready to jump back into the action. He needed more time, more grace. Grace he wouldn't get at Frogthulu.

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