16 Ian #2

We don’t want to go to the cops

An idea crosses their mind. Ollie pointed this out yesterday—Victor can run phone numbers.

IAN

But could I ask you one favor?

VICTOR

Is that why you apologized?

IAN

No I just thought of it

Sort of a lie, but not really. It’s not why they apologized anyway.

VICTOR

What is it?

IAN

All we have is this guys phone number

Can you run it? Get us an address, maybe a real name?

The ellipsis appears and disappears, then shows up again.

VICTOR

No more keying my car, promise?

IAN

Yeah

I’m sorry about it

VICTOR

No you’re not

IAN

I’m not sorry about the first time I did it, but I am about the rest of them

VICTOR

Yeah alright give me the number

Ian pulls up the reservation Brandon took a photo of and sends it.

VICTOR

Got it

Running it now

You guys still do those game nights?

IAN

Yeah

VICTOR

Those were fun

Tell Brandon, Ollie and Nicole I say hi

And tell Brandon to stop falling for assholes

Ian smirks at that. Victor always got along with everyone, genuinely liked his friends. Was almost like a big brother to Brandon.

VICTOR

This guy didn’t even give a real number

IAN

What do you mean?

VICTOR

It’s some company line

IAN

What company?

VICTOR

Just says KBA. I don’t know them. Want me see if I can find something out?

IAN

No

Thanks though

VICTOR

Sure

Anytime

You know it was good seeing you

Aside from the yelling and false accusations

Ian’s body suddenly fizzes like shaken soda. Good to see them? What does that mean?

“Okay,” one of the old dykes says, putting seven more books down on the counter with a slam that startles Ian away from the texts. “I think we’re done for now.”

Ian rings them up, glad for a reason to put down their phone, which suddenly feels radioactive. They have no idea what to say to Victor. Maybe he was just being polite, good seeing you as a way of saying goodbye. And with a little dig at the end. Very Victor.

Very hot.

Maybe they should have a game night. They can invite Victor, and—Ian stops the thought, shaking their head.

They are hiding out. There was a murder .

People could be hunting them, like the heart-eyes-tattoo guy.

They can’t have a game night. Are there even charades gestures for the murderer is right behind you ?

“Thank you,” the old dyke says as Ian hands them two heavy bags of books. “Hope whatever is going on in your phone works out.” She winks.

“Blowing up their phone,” Kate says. “That’s what they call it, right?”

“Not really,” Ian says with a grimace.

Kate walks around the counter and pats them on the back. “Sorry if that was more attention than you wanted.”

“It was fine,” Ian says, rolling their eyes. It was kind of nice, actually, having these strangers back them up for no reason, like Ian could lean on them to keep from being crushed under the burden of trying to be a decent human being.

“Good.” Kate smiles. “I think I’m going to run out for coffee. You want anything?”

“Where are you going?”

“That one with the cocoa-nib cold brew.”

“Yes please. That. Biggest size they have.”

“The usual, got it.” She shrugs on her coat and walks out.

Ian’s phone buzzes and they look down, wondering if Victor is actually elaborating a little. But it’s the group chat.

NICOLE

Tattoo guy is dangerous. Ex special forces turned freelancer.

Also I think my boss is hitting on me.

Ian feels instant whiplash, the terror from the first part of the message vanishing in the laughter of the second as they try to imagine Nicole dealing with work and romance mixing.

Assuming she means the boss that she mentioned the other day, the woman.

A man would be icky. They suppose any boss hitting on someone who works for them is icky, but if it’s queer, it’s somehow funnier, too.

Because it’s Nicole. Stumbling into romance.

The only way she was ever going to find it, with her life choices.

IAN

That’s terrifying and hilarious

I mean the ex-special forced thing is terrifying and the boss hitting on you is hilarious.

NICOLE

I figured. Why is it hilarious?

Ian thinks, trying to nail it down.

IAN

Because you sound like Brandon

They can hear Nicole laughing at that one.

brANDON

Hey! A guest isn’t the same thing as my boss!

OLLIE

Is she hot?

I assume she

NICOLE

She is

brANDON

Go for it!

Oh gods, no. Ian can’t handle two of their friends being that person who fucks at work.

IAN

Do not take relationship advice from Brandon

brANDON

Fair

NICOLE

I won’t

I’m just shocked

OLLIE

Why? You’re amazing and beautiful

NICOLE

I gotta go

IAN

Have fun fucking your boss

NICOLE

Shut up

Ian laughs, wondering how insane Nicole’s day is right now.

How insane everyone is. It’s funny how the fear seems to have faded somewhat, or how they’ve become more accustomed to it.

That’s probably not a good sign. Ian takes a deep breath.

Should they be more terrified? Less? They have no idea.

Maybe Nicole will figure it out. She’s the only competent one.

They stare at their phone a while, wondering exactly how to say what Victor found out without it being a big deal that they texted. But it’s impossible, of course.

IAN

I texted Victor. The phone number that made the reservation is registered to a company—KBA. That’s all he would tell me. Didn’t know what they are though.

And I don’t want to talk about it

Victor says hi and he misses you guys and game night, though

They stare at their phone for a moment longer, but their messages stay unread.

They feel a faint relief but also a sudden well of loneliness.

They want their friends to ask how they are and tell them it’s okay to text Victor and that maybe they’ll get back together or they definitely won’t—something. They want to be comforted.

Gross. They put their phone down. They need to find something to read.

The door chimes as someone comes in. Ian glances up at the mirror in the corner. It distorts the man, but one thing is terrifyingly clear: the heart-eyes emoji tattoo on his neck.

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