Chapter 4 #2
“It is,” Freddie said, but his voice was growing more serious.
“But it wasn’t just about the game. What Jack and I always talked about was if it could be real.
If this was actually the situation we were in—living our lives like the people in the beginning of the video game.
That’s what always consumed me the most. Like what if there was this whole other world, so close, and you could never get to it.
Or you didn’t even realize it was there. ”
I nodded, processing this, as Freddie finished the last of his burrito.
“So finding out that this is happening to you—it’s like realizing that maybe a tiny bit of that magic is possible. In fact, I really should tell Jack….” He pulled out his phone.
“Uh.” I glanced down at my watch, trying to do the math. “Isn’t it kind of late in the UK? Or…early?”
“Ah,” Freddie said with a nod, doing the same calculation that I just had. “You make a good point. But I can’t wait to tell him. He loved it, too, but not as much as me. I even had an Excalibur poster above my bed.”
I smiled at that. “When did you finally take it down?”
He just stared at me, his brow furrowing. “Sorry—take it down? I don’t understand….”
For just a second, I thought he was serious, until he gave me a smile—one that lit his whole face up.
“I’m just taking the piss,” he said, and then a second later, shook his head.
“Britishism. I’m just teasing you. I took it down in sixth form.
Geraldine Bewley was coming over to work on a project, and I needed her to see just how cool I was. ”
“And how’d that work out?”
“It didn’t,” he said with a laugh. “But not because of the poster.”
“Maybe you should have left it up? Maybe she was a secret fan, too.”
Freddie smiled at that, then leaned forward. “So, help me understand. The loop starts when you go through the doors?”
I nodded. “The ones by the Avengers Campus. As soon as I step over the threshold, I’m back to the moment I first came to the park.”
“Fascinating. So you can reset it whenever you want?”
“It seems like it. I thought at first that there might only be a few of these. But I’ve done it…four times now? I think? So there might not be any limit.”
“You don’t know how many times it’s been?”
I shook my head. “Even if I wrote something down, nothing comes with me. Like, when you spilled orange soda all over my dress…”
“Not me,” Freddie protested, looking alarmed. “I mean, not this me. But sorry on behalf of that me.”
“The next time I went through, my dress was perfectly clean, like nothing had happened to it. Every time I walk through the door, it’s like the first time. I remember everything that’s happened, but I can’t take anything with me.”
“Huh.” He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a small black notebook, the same kind Oscar used on client meetings—a Moleskine. He took out the pen that had been in the notebook and clicked the top. “Do you mind if I write this down? It just helps me think.”
“Go ahead,” I said as I took a the last bite of my burger.
Freddie nodded at it. “Good, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “I was really hungry.”
“Well, that’s an interesting point,” he said, scribbling something in his notebook, then looking up at me. “What about physically?”
I could feel my cheeks get hot and took an extra-long drink of my soda, hoping to cool them down. “I—What do you mean?”
“Well, like, in Groundhog Day, things start over when he goes to sleep, right?”
“Or dies,” I pointed out.
“And in Pettigrew’s Loop, it resets whenever he takes a nap. But you’ve been doing this for a few hours now, right? Are you tired? Do your feet hurt? That kind of thing.”
I considered the question. I probably should have been more tired, now that I was thinking about it.
If time was going in a straight line, many hours would have passed by now—it would have been close to four or five a.m. But I wasn’t tired in any extreme way.
My feet didn’t hurt, and I wasn’t exhausted.
I did seem to get hungry at the same time every loop—when Bryony and I had gotten snacks from the Cozy Cone, and when my stomach had rumbled this time with Freddie.
“No,” I said. “I think maybe I physically reset, too? Which I guess makes sense—as much as anything makes sense right now.”
“That’s very cool,” he said, underlining something in his notebook and raising an eyebrow at me. “It’s like you’re a superhero or something.”
I laughed. “I don’t know about that. But it is nice to talk to someone about this. It’s been kind of a weird thing to just have in my head as I’ve been walking around.”
“I mean, I do kind of know what it’s like.”
My head snapped up as I stared at him, surprised. Was this a double time-loop situation, like in Palm Springs or Russian Doll? “What do you mean?” I asked slowly. Maybe he was the wise guide who could walk me through this experience! It was high time I got one, after all. “Are you…”
“No, no,” Freddie said quickly. “I can assure you I’m not in a time-loop situation.” He paused. “You ever say a sentence you’re positive you’ve never said before?”
“Oh,” I said, nodding. I took a sip of my Coke, trying to cover the disappointment I was sure was plain on my face.
While it was a relief to finally talk to someone about this, the idea that I could have had someone on this journey with me had been really nice.
It was like until this moment, I hadn’t realized how lonely it had been.
“I just meant that my life right now is kind of similar,” he said with a shrug.
“My days here are all the same. We come over from our hotel, we have a few hours free to wander around. Then we go to sound check, rehearse if we need to, then play the same songs in the same order. And the next night, we do it again.”
“You mean,” I said, thinking of the posters, “with the band?”
“Oh right,” he said, shaking his head. “Sorry. I’m in this band, Eton Mess? We perform for the Grad Nites here. Maybe you knew that?”
“I’ve seen the posters,” I assured him. “Why’s it called Eton Mess?”
Freddie gave me a rueful smile. “I couldn’t tell you. It’s not my band. It was put together by some music executives. I was taking a year off before uni, trying to get people to listen to my songs—”
“You write songs?” I asked, impressed.
“Yeah. I’ve been playing since I was a kid. When I was little, I realized that I could hear something and reproduce it. It’s like perfect pitch, but for instruments.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s really impressive. How many instruments do you play?”
Freddie laughed. “How many do I play well? Two. I play bass in the band. I also play piano, but we don’t have keys in Eton Mess. I’ve been thinking for a while we should but…”
“I always wanted to learn piano,” I said, then immediately felt myself blush. I was sitting across from an actual professional musician, and I knew I’d just sounded like a total amateur. “I’ve taken a few lessons, but…maybe someday, right?”
Freddie nodded, his expression earnest. “You should stick with it. I love guitar, but there’s something so rich in the sound you can get from a piano. And I always prefer singing with it….”
“You sing, too?” I was trying hard to keep it together, but between the hair, the dimple, the accent and now the singing, it was getting quite challenging.
“I do. Well, not that much in Eton Mess. I just sing backup occasionally—Niall’s the singer.
” I nodded, remembering the guy in the poster pouting at the camera, microphone slung around his neck.
“And all our songs are written by some Swedish songwriting team I’ve never met.
At least that’s what they tell us. I’m partially convinced it’s some kind of AI that’s programmed to churn out pop songs.
Honestly, with some of these lyrics, it’s the only thing that makes sense. ”
I laughed, then shook my head, trying to focus. “Wait—you said you were trying to get people to listen to you?”
Freddie nodded. “Yeah. I was in London, doing a ton of odd jobs, just trying to get my music out there, and Niall heard about the audition. There was a group being put together—they wanted a band of Brits to play in the States. And it was a great opportunity, right? I’d never been to America, I’d get paid to play music… .”
“That sounds smart,” I said, taking a drink but hitting mostly ice.
“Exactly. So I said yes and came here. I’ve been trying to use this time in America to make some contacts.
When we have time off, I take the train up to LA, trying to get meetings.
And this music manager really liked some of my songs—she said she’s going to be at the show tonight.
I’ve assured her that what Eton Mess plays aren’t the kinds of songs I write, but she still wants to come.
She says she needs get a sense of how I play live, what kind of a performer I am. ”
I nodded and remembered seeing a woman at the show who seemed to be dressed a little better than everyone else there—maybe that was her? “That’s really exciting,” I said, but Freddie only gave me a wan smile in return. “That’s…not really exciting?”
“I mean, it’s a great opportunity—for me.”
I suddenly remembered what Freddie had said when he’d crashed into me—that he’d brought the soda for Niall as a peace offering. “It’s not so great for Niall?”
A ghost of a smile passed over Freddie’s face, and he shook his head.
“Yeah. I’ve known him forever. We were in a band together in school.
And he’s my mate—I don’t want to hurt him.
He wants to make it, too, but he’s only a singer.
He doesn’t play his own instruments. And I want to sing my own songs.
So, if I move forward, there wouldn’t really be a place for him. ”
“Maybe that’s what he gets upset about?” I asked. I thought hard, trying to remember what he’d said. “Why you’re bringing him a peace offering,” I clarified.
Freddie shook his head. “God, it’s mental you know that. So, I guess I must tell him, right? About the manager coming tonight. And he gets upset—”
“You bring him orange soda to apologize, spill it all over me—”
“Sorry, again.”
“But you still have to do it, right? You can’t hold yourself back. And this sounds like a real opportunity.”
Freddie nodded. “I know—and you’re right. But it’s not so easy, is it? To just leave people behind like that?”
I looked down at the tabletop, sweeping up some imaginary crumbs just to have something to do with my hands. “I don’t know. I think that, you know, sometimes…”
“Cass?”
I looked up at the sound of a familiar voice.
Bruce was standing next to the table, staring at me in shock.