Keeping quiet a minute, Fisher's eyes lost some of their spark, some of their insanity. Because from watching James mock him, it was reaching deep in his brain that he was insane, that James wouldn't be saying shit like that without cause. And seriously, who just started screaming in a British accent? Someone who got possessed by ghosts, that's who. A fucking crazy person. And for the moment, it didn't occur to him that James was in a fucking looney bin too. All he saw right now were the hundreds of guys he'd gone to school with, wealthy and handsome and popular. And all of them were represented by James, and all of them could see what a loser he'd become.
"Fisher," he mumbled, chin resting on his knees, arms hugging his legs. "Majors. Sorry 'bout screaming all night. Withdrawal 'n shit."