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Chapter 7

13:11, Thursday, the 26th of April, 2028.

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I’d gotten good (passable) at cooking solely through necessity.

It wasn’t that my sister was incapable of cooking. She could. It was the far worse fact that she was just so bad at it, to the point I thought she was doing it on purpose.

She wasn't. I'd seen how she ate when I wasn't around.

“Can you do pancakes?”

“No.” I pressed the omelette down, relishing the tang of fresh onions and ham. “You always put too much sugar on them…” Then the flip and a small dollop of butter. “It’s bad for your teeth.”

Sarah whined, head slumping on the coffee table and long, dark hair spilling out.

“Your hair’s greasy, too,” I noted, to which she sat up at, squinting at me. “Go shower.”

“Food’s gonna be done soon,” she said. “I’m not getting in now.”

The omelette was slid onto a clean paper plate and placed before her. “Eat and then shower, obviously.”

“Should've specified.”

“Should’ve used your brain.” I cracked open two eggs for mine, mixed them in the plastic cup we kept for just that and added the diced onions and turkey ham. Seasonings came after in our flat. “Make sure you use conditioner.”

“I know how to shower!” She laughed, half baulking. Naturally, I didn’t answer – I focused on food, on realising that I’d not bought enough groceries for the week again, too worried about the cost.

I forgot that humans, especially lazy ones, ate whenever they wanted, and that included burgers and microwave meals that should have been lunch.

Eggs were low, too. Same with the milk I’d only bought 4 pints of instead of the larger one.

Money. Always.

I had savings, of course, but nothing that was free to spend. That was ‘totally for uni’ and any emergencies.

Tonight was the only time I'd let myself splurge a little.

Omelette flip.

Salt, pepper, rosemary and Italian herbs, so it felt more like proper food. As it cooked, I took my phone out.

An email from work and a notification about my bank updating its terms of service. Nothing fun. As I had a second, I scrolled higher and found more than a dozen pings from Facebook, of all things.

An app I had barely used since I wasn’t quite that old just yet.

Friend requests from Rhys Coslett, Alys Coslett and… Neirin Unben. Nothing from Samys, but I expec- well, I didn’t expect it, but I wasn’t exactly surprised either. I was about Neirin’s. I couldn’t even remember if she’d heard my name.

I hit accept on all three and swiped over to the rest. A couple likes on the post, some comments from relatives and even a heart emoji from Alys as a reply.

And a message from Brie. Sent thirty minutes ago.

Brie Bednarz.

> Is that Alys?

> Tall lol. Didn’t know you were a photographer.

Not wanting it to be as awkward as Tuesday, I replied immediately.

James Morris.

> Hah. Yeah she is. Like seven foot lmao.

> And ya, they-

A quick, easy lie. A white one, one to ease because I didn’t even know why I’d done it and didn’t want any sort of… issue.

> Asked me to do it.

> ✋

> I got hands.

> Hbu. What you doing?

“James, food.”

I dumped the burnt omelette onto the kitchen counter, hastily grabbed a plate from the cupboard and slid it from the side onto it. Classy. “Christ.” I chucked my phone onto the sofa and groaned when it bounced onto the floor.

There’d been another message, too, but Brie was a priority. “Too busy on your phone?” Sarah said, mouth full. “You and Will gooning over Judy Hopps again?”

“One time,” I muttered, leaning over to pick my phone up, knees cracking audibly. “Like a year ago.” I sat back, leg crossed over the other. “And nah, it’s Brie. She’s asking about the pics I posted Tuesday.”

“I saw!” She chirped, making me flinch. “It looked so cute. W-Why didn’t you invite me? I would’ve gone.” She finished off another mouthful. “The blue one your work-wife?”

A light joke, but it still made me grit my teeth.

If Alys were a guy, nobody would've made it weird.

“Yeah, the one that looks like she’s about to vomit in… picture…” I couldn’t remember which one. “The one that’s just her.” I cut my burnt omelette into pieces, added some more salt and started on it. “Didn’t think I was allowed to invite you.”

“Rude.”

“Mhm.”

I checked the other messages.

Alys Coslett.

> Hello.

> Me and my brother Rhys are going to town tomorrow in the morning.

> Would you like to come?

I finished off my lemonade. So official sounding, I thought, placing the empty glass back on the coaster.

James Morris.

> Yeah I’m free tomorrow.

> What time? I work 12

And then I looked to Sarah, who still needed a shower, fresh air and people.

“Sarah, you want to go on a town trip tomorrow? Alys and her brother asked me to come.” Her eyes widened and her mouth opened like she were about to continue, but I cut in. “Shower first and then I’ll ask if it’s cool."

With the one dented crutch leaning against the arm of the sofa, she got to her feet.

“Thank you, James-Mummy. I’ll remember.”

“Kill yourself,” I shouted after her, just before the door slammed shut.

Alys Coslett.

> 9.

I sent her a thumbs up and swiped over to the group chat, immediately forgetting to ask about Sarah.

Jame Doe.

> Dealing with sis. On way. Have drink.

William Afton.

> Me when I’m dealing with my sister and am on my way with drink. (edited)

Jack (tardmaxed)

> me when im dealing with my sister and am on my way with drink (but i’m getting touched.)

Jame Doe.

> Me when I’m genuinely autistic.

William Afton.

> Real.

It was as good as I was going to get with those two while on Discord, I realised, closing the app.

But I needed it. After how shitty the past month had been, I needed a reminder I was a real person. Alys and Rhys were cool, but there was still this…

Co-worker feeling.

Like you couldn’t fully be yourself.

Like I had to poke and prod at them both to see how far they’d bend.

Alys was… I reached up to itch at the stubble on the underside of my chin, remembering how our talk had gone. She’d seemed a bit more lively than I thought, a bit more confident.

It made me wonder how she’d be when I next saw her.

And, speaking of-

Alys Coslett.

> Sorry about Samys.

> And Neirin.

> I did not expect them both to be causes of concern.

> Sorry.

I sat up.

James Morris.

> Lol.

> It's cool. Was just awkward. I've been through worse.

> How've you been?

> Work is horrible.

I laughed.

> And Jarys is still hard to feed. I don't understand why he eats like a human.

> Did you know chicken strips aren't strips of fresh chicken?

> I did lmao.

> It's breaded, right?

> It's Sarah's main source of protein since she's so spastic.

> Spastic?

> Ye.

>Half joking. Just means she's an idiot.

> 🤔

> Look.

> I'm thinking.

> Hah. Check it.

> 🎩

> 😭

> 👔

> 🙏

> 👖

> 👞👞

> Sad businessman.

> 😹

> Look. Samys.

> 😡

We went back and forth like that, trading emojis. I even got the honour of introducing gifs to her.

But halfway through sending a crying dog, something bounced off my scalp, jarring me awake.

Sarah, because who else, staring down at me, her long hair tied up in a hand towel. The rest of her lanky, pale self was swallowed by a loose-fitting shirt and sweatpants. “I've been shouting you. I had to get clean clothes myself.” Her scowl wavered. “What are you giggling at?”

“So?” I swapped which leg covered the other, dodging the question. “Was it really that hard to leave the bathroom and walk five feet to your room? There were towels there.”

She ran a hand down her face, and in the moment, without any makeup, clean and pale, I caught just how much she looked like Dad. “There weren't any. I had to sneak out, naked and wet like Gollum." But then, some of that irritation faded, eyes falling on my phone. “Who’re you talking to anyway?”

“Alys,” I said, flipping my phone around so she could see. “Look at my sad businessman. He's beautiful.”

No glasses meant she had to lean down and squint.

“I'm not spastic,” she muttered so quietly I almost missed it. “Very nice businessman.” She stepped back, ruffled the hair beneath her wrap and said, “Time is it, anyway?”

“Quarter to two. I’m heading out in a minute.”

She swiped up, sending a surge of nerves through me. “Oh, wow. She does have big wings. I thought you were just being green about it.” Another swipe. “Birthday soon, too. Probably why she's so 'friendly~'”

I snatched my phone back. “I swear to god you said not to mention her wings.”

“I said you can't talk about them. I'm a girl.”

Getting to my feet, I zipped my coat up. “Then tell her that when you see her if you're allowed. I'm sure that'll go great.”

She, eyes rolling, left the living room to finish dressing, while I, still on my feet, picked my phone back up. Brie, I found, still hadn't messaged, so I thumbed back over to Alys.

James Morris.

> Heading to friends now. I’ll ttyl.

Alys Coslett.

*> Goodbye. 🫡 *

After a while, Sarah finally finished getting dressed, slipping into a green creeper hoodie I didn’t recognise – an actually clean one, for once. “Where’d you get that?” I asked, double-checking I had my wallet and keys.

She shuffled forward, crutches clacking against the linoleum. “Waterstones trip,” my sister said. “Same day you and Will bought those miniatures.”

“Oh, my Plague Marines,” I recalled. “Shit, yeah, I still need to paint them. That Rhys works at Dead Ink. Wonder if I can sneak a discount in without poor-begging.”

“Ris? Sam's son?” She ruffled the towel around her hair again, long, dark locks falling out of place. “You leaving now?”

“Nah. Alys' brother.” I got up, untied and retied my laces, and headed to the door. “I’ll be back soon. Will has work, so I shouldn't be too long. I’ll order something when I get back.”

“Can I order now?”

I unlocked the door. “Uh.” And thought about what was in her account. “Yeah. Actually, use my account; I have that Just Eat Plus free trial thing. See you.”

I got a goodbye back, and with it I was gone; the taxi and elevator already called.

A woman with a pram and a little boy were already in the lift when I stepped into it.

The cheap vodka mixers and pop in my bag rattled faintly in the lift.

I kept my eyes on the metal doors instead of her or the side-eye she was giving me.

By the time I got outside, I was already checking whether Brie had replied.

She hadn’t.

The taxi pulled up, and I hopped into it quickly, giving the address and sitting back, winding down the grimy window to avoid the smell I didn’t even want to try analyse.

Will lived in a nicer area, with his parents, but they were out constantly and never seemed to mind what he was up to as long as he didn’t make a mess and kept working, which he did almost every day of the week.

The taxi rocked.

IT for local police.

Working with Dad.

The cracked pavement and artistically poor graffiti faded, traded for black iron fences and light bricks, for cars that were actually worth stealing and university degrees. Not quite affluent, just decent.

The car stopped too hard. I paid and climbed out, bag rattling again, the sound almost pleasing. I’d packed whatever the corner shop’s meagre drinks cabinet could give me, and I could already see the tension in Will’s face, the amusement in Jack's and the 'go for it, lil buddy' in Tan, even if he was too busy to join.

I hopped up the white stone steps and banged loudly on the front door.

Jack answered, his smile bright and mess of bleach-blonde hair ruffled from where he’d probably brushed it back into place too harshly. His shallow cheeks were flushed already, and his breath had a tang of something sharp and orange – a screwball already; perfect.

No words. I hurried in, sauntered past him into the living room, where I found Will laid back, hands around a 360 controller and Halo Reach blaring on the TV. I slung the backpack next to him, the bottles yelling at the mistreatment. “Jesus, James,” he grunted, eyes flicking down to the pack and then over at me.

He paused the game, placed the controller on the coffee table and opened up the bag, slowly examining the contents.

Buzzball the size of a watermelon. A second Buzzball just as large. Russian standard I’d had forever and a small collection of pre-mixed. Luckily, he already had soft drinks.

Jack joined us, rubbing at his eyes.

“Where did you even get this?” He picked the bottle up. “2016? Damn.” And immediately opened it up, topping off the screwball he’d been nursing. “Why’d you bring so much, anyway? We’re just doing Reach.”

Ignoring him for a moment, I took my nice glass from my bag and poured in about a half of sour apple vodka. Added Red Bull and slumped back onto the sofa, just barely managing to snatch up a free controller. “I'm giving you an edge,” I fibbed, taking a long sip.

“Is work really that bad?” Will asked, letting me join the lobby. “I figured you were just crying on Discord.”

“Oh, dude, I totally am.” Another sip. Hurt my nose. “But it actually has been that tragic recently. There's this dragon that-”

“Dragon?” Jack cut in.

"A dragon started at work. Awkward as hell. Wears a mask cause she's got all these scars.” I bit my lip. “I, uh, went to her brother's birthday because I had fuck all to do and Brie threw actually threw fit over it.”

It went quiet for a fraction of a second before Jack snorted. “Brie threw a fit? Why?”

Mission select. First level. I threw a grenade at Jack's feet before we continued.

“Literally no clue. We've not talked since I made dinner at her place, so I sent her a picture of the party cause I thought she'd think it was cool, and she got all weird about it.” I tried to remember exactly what she'd said, but all I found was vague irritation. “Like, she just- she was just so weird. Who's that? Do you talk to her a lot? Oh, I didn't know about her. Like I'm not allowed- Jack, no!”

He ran me over with the warthog while Will actually tried to eliminate the enemies.

I stuck a plasma grenade to the car and stole it when he died.

“Skill issue.”

No clue who said it. One of us.

“L-Like I'm not allowed to have female friends.”

“She messaged you?” Will asked.

“At the party, yeah, after I sent her the picture.”

We reached a checkpoint, and I used the moment to take my phone out.

James Morris.

> Check it.

> Dragon bday party.

Brie Bednarz.

> What?

> Dragon bday party. Friend of mine’s lil bro.

> You have a dragon friend?

> Yeah she's really cool. Bad at mopping tho lmao.

> Didn’t know that. You never said anything about her.

> Ohh yeah. Called Alys. Reads Beserk.

> She sounds cool.

> How come you never mentioned her?

> You two hang out a lot together? (edited)

> Nah, not really.

> Asked me last week at work and me and her bro went to Dead Ink ages back.

>We just talk at work sometimes when it’s slow.

> Ahh.

> Sounds like you’re close.

> What’s she like?

> Chill. Kinda quiet.

> Wears a mask and has some really bad scars.

> Fucking loves eggs tho lol.

> K.

> You never talk about your coworkers.

> I’m glad you’re close with someone.

> Can’t remember the last time that happened.

Jack got up from the armchair to check in on the gossip, and for a moment I felt myself cringing at immediately bringing up drama, but I figured she'd shown her own friends, so what the hell. “Why'd she ask like ten times why you never mentioned her?”

“Right??”

Will read, lips pursed. “I think she's jealous, man.” And sat back.

I glanced at him, phone still raised. “What? Why.” And then I remembered. “Oh, oh. Also, Alys' family- I asked if they wanted me to take pics cause ten is really big for dragons.” I moved over to Facebook.

“Ignition bladder,” Will supplied, not losing a step. “I saw the photos, too. Cute.”

“Right. And Brie messaged, asking if the blue dragon was Alys and if I was a photographer. I messaged like five minutes-” Thirty. “-After and she's still not replied.”

Jack chuffed, rubbed at his face and very wisely said, “You should send her to Ukraine. Yes.”

I turned my focus to the game, feeling those irritated flickers bubbling. “Nah, she's too busy sleeping. Twelve hours a day. Narcolepsy. It's bleak.”

Jack laughed, I laughed, and I hated that Will looked like he was thinking whether or not it was okay to.

“Jealous you have a dragon wife,” Jack said, taking another drink as he waited to respawn, only to nearly spill it when the game behaved and brought him back quick. I was safe behind cover, so downed half mine before running back into the fray.

Elites died. We died. We were playing terribly.

Me and Jack were, at least. Will had work so he barely touched anything.

Time froze as something gross slithered into my mind.

A mixture of frustration, alcohol and the buzz of being with friends forced out words I’d never normally say. “Maybe she’s jealous the giant dragon lady is somehow an upgrade over someone who spends all day wiping spit off special-ed kids.”

Jack coughed, laughing, and that made me wheeze at my own joke.

Will made this odd scoffing gasp.

Like he'd realised I actually meant it.

I took another drink, as did Jack as we continued playing, like I’d said nothing at all.

“What if… the dragon eats her?” Will of all people said. “Easy fix, and you can spend more time in VC or here.”

“That's true,” Jack cooed. “Actually true, though.”

“Alys is genuinely huge.” I reached for a drink that was empty. “Like seven foot, I think. Keeps bumping into me when I'm trying to sort orders.” So I waited until we were safe before making another, allowing the haze to settle over me and dull the constant flow of thoughts. “Nah, but she's actually cool. Easy to talk to.”

Will hummed through a mouthful of biscuits. “Yeah, we've got an Archon intern down at the precinct too. Called Carwen – huge nerd. Asked me if I wanted to do Baldur's Gate.” He tried to laugh but ended up choking on the digestives in his mouth, having to raise a fist to bat at his chest. “Doing it next week.”

“Damn, can't believe you didn't invite me,” I joked. “After I basically came out to your mum for you. Betrayal.” I crunched down more crisps, expended my needler and… realised how quiet it had got.

Jack looked surprised, at least a little.

And Will… Will looked horrified, wide-eyed, mouth open a fraction.

It didn't click.

I was killed in game.

It clicked.

He hadn't told Jack. Only me. Because he trusted me.

“O-Oh, sorry. Will, seriously. I didn't know he'd not-” Awkward pause. “-Been told…”

“Will's gay?” Jack asked. Asked me, not Will. Me. Because I'd said it, I realised, chest seizing. “Damn, that's crazy.” And that was it. His interest faded and he seemed infinitely more fascinated by his vape, which he lifted up and groaned at. “I’m out. Pause the game for us.”

I forced a smile into my voice, stilled the slight shake to my knees. “Are you seriously dipping to buy more fruity vape juice?”

“Yeah, I need more dip, too. We’re out of sour cream and chives and the rest taste like cancer." He took his ratty old wallet from his trouser pocket and skimmed the notes. “What do you twats want?”

“I’m good,” I said, sitting back, trying not to look at Will, who nonchalantly asked for a Monster.

Jack put on his jacket and trainers and left, closing the door too hard like he always did.

The game remained paused.

Drinks were left to warm.

…

“...Sorry.”

Will put his chin into his palm, elbow on the side of the sofa, and groaned loudly. He then looked over, slugged me hard enough in the arm to numb it. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I know, I know.”

“Uhhhh huh. Yeah. Yeah, you know.”

“I know..." I sank lower into the sofa.

“I’m going to tell Sarah you just did that.” He leaned back, eyes closed, face tight. “I’ve still not told Dad, either.”

“Really?”

His eyes remained closed. He didn’t respond immediately. “Yeah… He’s good to me, obviously, but… old school Nigerian, so… yeah… Not a chance I’m telling my aunties or uncles.”

A beat.

All I could say, mixer slowly clouding me, was, “Is it weird to say I sometimes forget you're black?”

His eyes opened and crinkled in appalled amusement. “Jesus fucking christ.” He sat up and sighed, hands fiddling with his controller. “I think you need to ease up on the drinking.”

“It helps me think!” I rambled, grinning.

His own smile flickered. “Is it weird to say I kind of had a crush on you in high school? If we’re being stupid?"

Cold spread from my heart outwards, and I hated that it took me a couple of seconds to recover. “Only a little. I sort of guessed.”

His caramel eyes rolled. “Sure. You're totally not the densest guy on the planet. 1000 IQ.”

“Hey, I got A’s on all my exams," I huffed playfully, crossing my arms. “I am 1000 IQ."

“Aaaand now you work at McDonald's.”

That stung more than he probably knew, but I didn't let it show.

Tried to, at least.

"The discount's worth it.”

“Mhm.”

I made a second drink to go with my main one.

DLC.

Or something.

Either way, as Will thought about things worth thinking about, I finished off both.

Jack was taking forever, I realised after enough time had passed.

Probably on his phone outside the shops.

“...Hey, you… you were just messing around, right? About Brie?”

Brie. A kind of cheese. I'd teased her about that in school.

School. I'd fucking hated school, so why did everyone bring it up so much, like-

Will had said something. “Sorry, what?”

“Did you mean what you said about Brie?“ He repeated. “All that negative stuff?”

“Probably.” Where was my third- fourth? Pre-order or- “She doesn't talk to me all day, so I don't talk to her and- Jesus, we're having dinner next week.” Found it. “Can't wait to hear her talk about uni for the fiftieth time in a row and how amazing highschool was because she peaked when she was sixteen. Fantastic.”

He flinched.

“Why are you even with her?”

“Because why not~” I mumbled, too weak to put any real bite into my words with the walls moving the way they were. "Might as well see this to the end.”

He shifted slightly. “How do you think she feels?”

My stomach rolled, and I could feel my lip curl.

But-

How did she feel?

“Not a clue. Probably doesn't even care. She's got uni and all her cool friends and mum and dad and a happy career in the future.” Through my bleary eyes, I could see Will's irritation fade into something almost pained. “...She probably only messages when she's bored or sees me talking to people.”

I stopped talking, not because I didn't have anything to say, but because my throat suddenly closed up and I just could not talk.

Will stared at me for a second too long.

Not judging.

Pitying.

I hated pity.

“James,” he said quietly, like he was disarming a bomb. “I seriously don't think she talks to you because she's bored.”

I laughed at that. Actually laughed. Took another drink to kill how tight my throat suddenly felt.

“Dude, everybody gets bored eventually.”

Silence.

Controller hum.

The paused Halo music looping faintly through the room.

And the worst part was that I almost believed him. For maybe half a second, I almost believed Brie cared in the way he meant.

Then I pictured her at university again.

Friends and classes.

People with actual futures.

People she didn't have to drag along behind her like a dead battery.

“Whatever,” I muttered, reaching for the vodka again. “It's really not that deep, dude. I’ll just chill with Alys tomorrow and forget about it. Just a rough week.”

Will looked like he wanted to argue.

Thankfully, the front door slammed open before he could.

“Gentlemen,” Jack announced dramatically, one plastic bag looped around his wrist. “I have returned with nicotine and sour cream.”

The tension evaporated almost instantly. Not fully, not really, but enough to let me breathe again.

Jack tossed Will his Monster, dropped back into the armchair, and immediately frowned at me. “Why do you look divorced?”

"Because he is,” Will muttered.

“Real.”

Jack dug around in the bag for a second before pausing. “Oh, by the way, Brie’s at some house party.”

I blinked at him.

“She posted on Snapchat.” He shrugged. “Think that's why she didn't reply.”

“Oh.”

That was it.

Not ignoring me.

Just busy.

The guilt should've faded harder than it did.

Instead, I just drank more.

#

The rest of the night blurred after that.

Halo.

Music from somebody's phone playing on bluetooth speakers.

Jack attempting to balance a tortilla chip on his nose and somehow succeeding.

Snorting salt and squeezing lemon juice in his eyes.

Will leaving halfway through a match because apparently adults with jobs had to do things like arrive on time.

Then suddenly I was in the back of a taxi with my forehead against cold glass, stomach sloshing violently every time the car hit a pothole, the poor driver looking back every five minutes or so to make sure I hadn’t died.

Leeds at mid-day bled together in streaks of grey and wet pavement.

My phone buzzed once.

I didn't check it.

The tower block looked worse at night.

Grey concrete. Dead windows. Damp stains beneath balconies.

I climbed out of the taxi on shaky legs, nearly forgot to close the door behind me and stumbled through the lobby, smelling like vodka, energy drinks and smoke from when I’d snuck out for a cig.

The lift took forever.

By the time I got upstairs, my keys barely worked in the lock.

Sarah was cross-legged on the sofa when I finally shoved the door open, a pizza box balanced on one knee and some awful anime playing quietly on the television.

She looked up once.

Paused.

“Jesus Christ,” she said flatly. “You’re an actual mess. It's barely four pm.”

“Mhm.”

I kept walking.

“Did you really drink all that junk you bought?”

“Mhm.”

“You smell radioactive.”

“Mhm.”

My room was dark besides the glow leaking in from the living room.

Small. Cramped. Dark.

Safe.

Old computer parts sat stacked beneath the desk beside tangled wires and empty cans. Notebooks covered half the floor; pages filled with bad RPG ideas, enemy stats, dialogue trees, unfinished JavaScript notes and lists of things I’d once promised myself I’d learn properly.

The air smelled faintly of dust and overheating plastic.

I collapsed face-first onto the small bed without even taking my shoes off.

My stomach rolled.

Phone.

Where was my phone?

Found it beneath me.

The brightness stabbed my eyes instantly.

Discord.

Missed notifications.

Jack sending something truly incomprehensible into the server.

Brie still hadn’t replied.

But there, still there at the top.

Alys Coslett.

Three hours ago.

I stared at it blearily for a moment before fumbling my thumb across the screen and opening Facebook instead.

The birthday post loaded slowly.

Pictures from earlier filled the screen one after another.

Jarys grinning around cake.

Rhys just the same.

Alys borderline glaring at the camera.

Alys.

I opened up the list of people who had liked the post, squinting hard so my eyes could adjust. I skimmed and found someone who had hearted it.

Dragon. Brown scales, blue eyes, but that was probably just the lighting making Alys look all funny, I told myself. Poor lighting. Brain good.

Squint.

Deep thoughts.

Bad with people. I was bad with people. Brie. Yes.

So maybe… maybe I should try be good, starting with Alys.

James Morris.

> you so cool

> will be dope seeing you again

Satisfied with myself, I let the phone slip from my hand and passed out almost instantly.