“And my life,” he says, fully serious.
This first day of Death-Cast is so dizzying.
One moment, the Decker whose life I saved has his spirits lifted, and the next, he’s haunted.
Maybe this is the biggest advantage to how life was lived before—you don’t spend any time grieving yourself when you’re not expecting to even die in the first place.
“Seriously, I’m happy you’re alive. I’ll save you as often as I can.”
“Happy,” he echoes.
There’s something sad about the way he says happy.
He could be tired. It’s late as fuck—four o’clock in my body, one o’clock in his. But I think it’s a life exhaustion weighing him down.
“Valentino?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not a fan of your parents. Straight-up. If they can’t meet you where you’re at, that shit is on them. It’s their loss because you’re fucking awesome. If you think you got something to gain by talking to them one last time, I say go for it. But please, please, please only do it for yourself. You don’t owe anything to people who don’t want to see you happy.”
Valentino reaches over and squeezes my arm. “Well, I’m really happy I’ve met you. It’s nice to know my heart is going to a good person.”
“Only good? You called me great before. How can I regain some points?”
“Let me think,” he says.
If Valentino asked for a kiss, he’d find my lips on his so fast.
It’s hard being this close to him and not being with him.
I feel like we’re connecting, I’m not just telling myself some story. I legit believe that if Death-Cast hadn’t called Valentino, then I would have put my number into his phone and we would’ve made plans to hang out—maybe even directly called it a date—and gotten to know each other at a fast-and-steady rate. But we don’t get a tomorrow; we’re barely getting a today. Soon, his sister will land in New York and they’ll spend as much time together as they can, and if all goes well, we’d reunite at the hospital for the surgery, where it will be too late to live like we are right now—two guys sharing a bed in the middle of the night, opening our hearts to each other like when we first met.
I don’t want to regret not saying anything—not taking action.
“Valentino?” I whisper.
I wait for him to say my name back, but he only answers with a gentle snore, one that rumor has it will erupt through this empty studio in no time. I stay up as long as I can, listening to Valentino sleep before I finally pass out too.
Scarlett Prince
1:09 a.m. （Mountain Standard Time）
The plane was supposed to take off now, but instead, it remains grounded with the pilot still sealed away in the cockpit—and armed forces outside. Scarlett assumes the pilot himself must’ve alerted someone. Before anyone could even escape through the emergency exit, security and police officers surrounded the plane, instructing everyone to stay inside as they investigate the threat.
“Remain calm,” the pilot had said after quelling all concerns about flying everyone to their deaths.
But how can people remain calm if they were never calm in the first place?
Passengers are banging on windows and threatening the copilot and flight attendants.
Scarlett is scared for her life, but knows she shouldn’t be.
If she were going to die, then Death-Cast would’ve called.
Naya Rosa