Realising your own mortality was hard. Everyone should get to an age they were comfortable with then turn immortal. But then, the risk of life would fade. Things would get monotanous, boring. Rocky didn't like boring. So it was life at the price of death, though it shouldn't happen to anyone so young.
"Vinnie..." she whispered, trying to get him to stop, only to start again. Her hand rubbed at his back, attempting to coax him down from the angry path he was venturing towards. "It wasn't you, Frankie, Cissy, Zevira or me. It was Simon. And the car didn't see because the damn car didn't see. And it's shit, and it hurts and it's painful to fuck but you - you knew him. Celebrate that. Mourn he's gone but celebrate the fact that he was your friend, and you were in his life as well as him in yours. He's got a daughter on the way that needs her Uncle Vinnie to tell her how frickin' awesome her daddy was, but you can't do that if you still have anger at the world and... don't grieve him properly."