Prologue
Kaden
In January, the first person in the US got sick from Coronavirus.
In February, San Diego declared virus emergency.
In March…
It’s Sunday.
My band and I have just finished a jam session when my boss, Kit, calls me.
“Get down to the studio. We need to talk.”
I’ve known Kit Bryce since I was fourteen and he was married to my mom’s cousin Stephanie. He’s a pretty serious guy but I’ve never seen him as grave as when I walk into his office at the back of the tattoo studio, and clock him behind the dark-wooden desk.
Seth’s leaning against the wall across from Kit, chewing his cheek. He gives me an up-nod when I enter, and I walk over to stand beside him.
“What’s going on?” I say, but he just shrugs.
Diaz Moreno walks in, closing the door behind him and drops down on the chair in front of Kit. He doesn’t bother with greeting anyone.
“They’re closing us down?” he says, eyes on Kit.
“What?” Seth whispers beside me.
Kit sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. They are.”
Months go by and the stress is eating me up from the inside out.
People have been going haywire, panic-shopping groceries. Hand sanitizers are sold out everywhere.
I stay at home—like we’re meant to. Only ever seeing Seth or my girlfriend Tara.
I don’t hit the gym.
And I haven’t been to the studio for months.
When August rolls around, there’re heatwaves and wildfires, and a burning fucking pandemic happening all at once. It’s like the damn Twilight Zone.
“You know what I heard?” Seth says. His thumbs move over the PlayStation controller at rapid speed.
“What?” I keep my eyes glued to the TV as I dribble past one of his players.
“This girl on YouTube said there’re no reported cases of COVID on Svalbard.”
His team makes the final goal, and I place the controller on the coffee table, leaning back against the couch.
“Yeah? You think we should move?” I chuckle.
“Sure. If you don’t mind polar nights, midnight sun, polar bears—”
“Yeah, no. Hard pass.”
Seth chuckles and leans back against the couch, spreading his legs wide, before he turns to face me. “Wanna grab some food?”
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, raising my brows.
“I can run out and get some?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know,” he says, already getting up from the couch. “Pizza okay?”
A few weeks after New Year’s, they finally lift the stay-at-home orders, after months of curfew. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or not.
“What do you mean, you’ve left the band?” Tara asks, gaping at me where she sits next to me on the couch, her hazel eyes wide.
“I’ve left the band. I’m not playing anymore.”
She shifts, facing me, and crosses her legs. “But, why?”
“It’s not like we’ve had a gig in forever anyway, so…” I shrug.
“No, but you can still meet up, and hang out and play together?”
I shrug again.
“So, why did you leave?” she prods. “Did you have a fight or something?”
I snort. “What? With Ollie and Finn? No. I just didn’t feel like it anymore.” It’s half a lie—I love playing with them, but the fear of getting sick weighs heavier.
My phone pings with an incoming text from Seth, telling me he’s here. I get up to buzz him in. When I drop down on the couch, Tara sighs.
“What?” I say, throwing my hands out.
“So, first kickboxing and now the band? What are you going to do when life goes back to normal? Keep sitting at home, doing nothing?” I don’t answer that before my front door swings open and Seth walks inside.
“Hey, babes!” he calls.
“Wash your hands.”
He stops in his tracks, tilting his head. “Dude, I just came from my house.”
I shrug one shoulder, shaking my head once. “Don’t care. Wash your hands.”
He walks off to the bathroom, and I can hear him humming something as the water runs before he comes back.
“Did you know he quit the band?” Tara asks him.
“Yep!”
“And?”
“Best idea ever! Now he can spend even more time with me.” He throws his hand up for a high five as he walks past me. I clap it without looking, shooting Tara a grin. She huffs a laugh, shaking her head.
“This,” she says, circling a hand at us, “this co-dependency you’ve got going on, it’s going to backfire on your asses.”
When summer arrives, Kit calls us into the studio. We’ll be allowed to open again in a week, and he wants us to clean the place, floor to ceiling.
“What’ve you been up to today?” Seth asks. He’s got a taco in hand, and a bag of candy sticking out of his back pocket as we stroll along the sidewalk.
“Tara came over, picked up some of her stuff.”
“Oh,” he nods. “So, you’re really over then?”
“We’ve been over for weeks,” I say, unscrewing my water bottle and taking a sip.
“Yeah, but like, sometimes people change their minds, you know? Did she seem to wanna get back together?”
I frown. “No. Why? You think we should?”
“Uh… I mean, she’s awesome! I love Tara. But you broke up for a reason, right?” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah.” I toss my wrapping paper in a bin. “So, why’re we even talking about this?”
He takes a big bite of his taco and mumbles something I can’t hear.
“What?”
“Never mind. Come on.”
I stop and lift my gaze; Bold Tattoo Studio reads the sign on the window. It’s like I’ve never seen it before. I’ve worked here for eight years, and all of a sudden, I’m… what? Nervous to go in?
I have a weird feeling in my stomach.
Like when you didn’t want to go to school some days for no particular reason, other than something just felt off. Or different.
Everything feels different now.
Everything is different.
And I have a feeling we’ve barely even scratched the surface.