“Wow, that party was amazing!” Casey walked drunkenly along the sidewalk–her red hair flowing wildly, “I am totally fucked right now.”
“Who the hell’s idea was it to give you two shots of Patron and a Jägermeister?” Jordan shook his head and helped her along–his brown skin glistening in the night with sweat. “If Jason were here you wouldn’t be like this.”
“Fuck Jason!” Casey shouted. “Always out gallivanting and playing hero!” She continued, “I haven’t seen him in weeks, Jordan, weeks!” She asked with bright green eyes that demanded contact, “Have you seen him?”
“I haven’t.” Jordan looked away, still helping Casey along–the alcohol on her breath made him want to gag. “Look, it’s not like he doesn’t give a shit about us. You know he’d be here tonight if he could as well as I do, but, if he’s leaving us out, then the shit he’s in has gotta be pretty bad.”
“We’re his friends, Jordan!” Casey held her head and stumbled. “Who gives a damn how bad it is! We’ve always stuck together! Side by side we’ve been with him and side by side we’ve gotten through. Yeah, sure, we’ve gotten in some shit where he’s had to bail us out but we’ve saved his ass plenty, too!”
Casey sighed, “I just wish he’d let us in, you know?”
“Yeah,” Jordan sighed, holding her up, “I know.”
Jordan and Casey walked through the night. The moon shined brightly in the sky, a full moon. The stars were ripe for the picking–as if one could simply extend their hand and pluck them from the sky. All the mom-and-pop stores and out-of-the-way restaurants and bars that lined the block had closed up shop–leaving the local deli and pizzeria as the only place to get food for the night. They walked up to the pizza place and ordered two slices–both for Casey. Jordan often played the responsible one. While Casey ate, Jordan walked outside to take in the midnight blue sky. His fists tightened and his jaw clenched in anger. He understood exactly how Casey felt. Are we not your fucking friends, you bastard?! He wanted to punch something, anything, to release the anger inside him so he could stay cool for Casey’s sake. When they both went off the handle about Jason, things got ugly. Fast.
Jordan took out his phone, looked in the pizzeria to check on Casey–who was now sleeping it off–and brought up Jason’s number and tried calling for the umpteenth time. This time, however, someone picked up.
“Jason?” Jordan was shocked. Still angry, but shocked.
At the sound of his name, Casey hopped up and ran out the pizzeria to where Jordan was, “Jason?”
“Yeah…aggh, shit!” Jason breathed heavily through the phone.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you?” Casey asked consecutively. “ Just tell us where and we’re there!”
“Ah, shit.” Jason chuckled and sighed. “Casey’s with ya, huh?” He continued. “Yeah, my phone was dead for the past two weeks, couldn’t get to a charger. And Macklemore’s been on my ass trying to kill me, and well, you know how that is. Better to just go ghost than have him destroying half the city like last time.
“Anyway, here’s the situation. I’m gonna come flying in any minute now, I’m gonna need you both to look in the sky.” They looked. “You see anything that looks like a shooting star?”
“Oh God,” Casey chuckled. “ I see ya.”
“Yup,” Jordan smiled, “getting your ass handed to you as usual, huh?”
“Pretty much,” Jason said. “Anyway, meet me where I land and I’ll explain everything.”
“You better!” Casey laughed. “Or I’ll kill you myself!”
“And I’ll help her,” Jordan added.
“Funny, see ya there.” Jason hung up when a loud thud came from where Jason indicated he’d be landing. They ran toward the location.
When they got there a cloud of smoke was ascending into the sky. Pebbles of debris fell as the wind blew and coughing, hacking sounds filled the air. A silhouette stood up as Jordan and Casey looked on, recognizing the slender, athletic figure emerging from the dust.
His arm cut through the dust and it cleared instantly. He sighed heavily and looked at his friends he hadn’t seen in weeks. They looked at him as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, especially Casey–who cared deeply for him. Jordan, on the other hand, looked at him as if they’d just spoken yesterday. His aloofness masking the fact he’d deeply missed his friend. For a moment the air was still and the night silent, no one said a word.
Jason stood at about six-foot-two wearing all black skinny jeans, slim fit t-shirt, combat boots, and tattoos on each arm. On his left arm was a grim reaper preparing to strike someone dead with its scythe and on his right, a ghost traveling along a deserted path–the road black and unknown. He was brown skin with a full, scruffy black beard and deep brown eyes–eyes that’d make a girls heart melt if she looked too long.
“Been a while, huh?” He smiled.
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