Content Warning: alcohol, implied drug craving
The Strokes brought in experts to test if what I had told them was true. A formality, they said. Just a precaution. I didn’t blame them.
It didn’t take long after that for them to let me go.
“We’re very sorry abwiejflmsdkhtiejmrfedsijfing,” the agent who led me out said, “and thank you so much for cooperating. We’ll explain everything to your employer, soeywhtuejfmsd shtedefble with that.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I mumbled as we arrived in the reception area of the Strokes headquarters. The agent pointed at the front doors, saying something I didn’t understand, then left my side.
I stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the exit. It was a simple wooden door, nothing special. There was nothing special about the Strokes building, really – just one of many in the city. But walking through that door, being here, had changed everything. How much more would change when I walked through it again?
“You can’t just stand there all day,” the receptionist called, startling me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
I stepped out onto the stone stairs of the entrance, each step the full length of the building and ending abruptly at the corner of the street. At the bottom, Leslie sat.
They leaned back on their hands while gazing at the fading grey of the evening sky. I walked down until I stood beside them.
“Ramona’s looking forward to you coming home,” Leslie said, not even looking at me.
I said nothing.
“You know the way back, right?”
“Leslie, I… I’m s-”
“Just go if you know the way,” they said sharply.
With a sigh, I turned away, walking back to the apartments alone. Leslie probably wanted nothing to do with me anymore.
When I arrived home, Ramona greeted me with a warm hug and a feast laid out on the table. “Welcome home, Dax,” she said. “I have no idea what the Strokes were feeding you, soeiowmeflkdhedup as much as I could.”
At least there was still one friend I hadn’t lost yet. “Thank you,” I replied with a smile, sliding down into a chair. “Now if only I could forget all of this happened for a while.”
“That’s what we have rum for,” Ramona replied, reaching for the bottle on the table.
“No, I’d rather – ” I cut myself off before I could say I’d rather have soot. “Rum’s fine,” I muttered.
She poured out a couple of glasses for us. I tossed one back before I even thought about eating the food.
“How are you doing, Ramona?” I asked, desperate to distract myself. “Have any good protests lately?”
“Actually I took a step back from that for the time being.”
I paused. “Why?”
Ramona hesitated, slowly setting her fork down on her plate. “I may not know all the details,” she said, “but Leslie was devastated when they thought that you…” Ramona took a deep breath. “I needed to be their best friend, not another problem. Which is also why I haven’t told anyone that 216894 was sent by the System.”
I gaped. “So you just… stopped?”
“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong,” she replied, holding up her hands. “I’m still working hard on this, just more in the background. And Leslie and Iweijotmlejrhfjiemon a compromise. Not right now, but soon enough.”
Ramona paused. “And are you going to give me any details, Dax? About why the Strokes arrested you?”
I poured myself another glass of rum instead of responding. I would’ve still preferred soot. But I didn’t need it. I didn’t need it.
“Doesn’t matter,” I replied. “It’s over, so we can go back to normal.”
Ramona crossed her arms. “So, what? You’re just… gonna pretend none of this happened?”
I gave her a bitter smile. “It’s what I’m good at.”
To be continued…