"Hey."

A chilly gust of wind came through the window, ruffling the gray curtains that had lost their vibrance long ago. Elliot stepped into their once-home, swiping away the dust gathered on the floor and grabbing what few items he hadn't yet scrounged together. 

"Hey." A voice called from an adjacent room. 

"Yo." He responded. He heard the quick yet cautious steps getting to closer to him. Suddenly, two arms wrapped around his back, and he could feel their heartbeat thump through his thin and stretched sweater. 

"You didn't tell me you were swinging by again." He could feel the tears soaking through his shirt. He didn't move an inch.

"I'm just picking up a couple things, Rowan."

"Yeah." They let go of their embrace. "I know. It's just good seeing you before you go."

"Same here."

"Have you found somewhere to go yet? I think I'm gonna move in with a couple of my other friends, and there's probably room for you if you want."

"I'll be okay. Take care of yourself, alright?" 

Puh! Elliot felt a soft hand punch into his ribs.

"I should be saying that! When I visit you, you'd better doing good! Or else, or-, er-, just-" They could no longer hold themselves together, and burst into tears. "Promise me you'll stay in touch. Call me, text me, whatever it takes, okay?"

"Yeah." A wistful smile bloomed on his lips. 

He slowly straightened himself out, and began to walk.

He passed by the greasy olive-green couches he and his friends played party games on. He could almost hear their laughter liven up the space again. 

He stopped by the kitchen, and the familiar smell of burnt cookies wafted into his nose. No matter how long he spent cleaning and the amount of Lysol he used, he never got that smell to go away. Those cookies were pretty horrible, weren't they? He remembered their eyes crinkling up with smiles almost as much as their noses scrunched up from the smell, and their joy despite their tendency to crumble into ash.

His hand rested on the splintering doorframe as he looked inside the house for the last time.

A deep sigh.

A final goodbye.

A new start?

You never could tell. 

Elliot slowly stepped towards his car. 

The skies were a little more overcast than usual. 

--

The skies didn't look any better the next morning. 

Beep-beep-beep.

"Mmmph." Elliot's hand grasped wildly for his phone, just a little out of reach from where he was splayed out on his parent's couch. He'd already tried snoozing it 3 times, but his errant swipes never quite got there.

I guess it's time for me to get up.

Slowly, he dragged himself to the restroom. After splashing his face with too much cold water, he scrutinized his appearance in the mirror. Elliot's eyebags seemed to be a little darker, his face a little more gaunt, his body a little skinnier. 

He sighed deeply as he threw on some clothes and prepared to head out. 

The drive was as monotonous as per usual. A fair share of maniacs drifting about the freeway and the familiar drone of radio news filled the long early-morning commute. 

"Coming up next on the five, here's your traffic report! Also, gas prices are down a couple cents today, and a man was shot to death in the BA. Stocks coming up in 7 minutes!"

--

A familiar face greeted him once he stepped into the office.

"Hey."

"Hey, what's up big guy? You seem a bit tired today, you good?" Howie, his bubbly-as-ever co-worker asked, with a little worry in his eyes. "Do you want me to get you something, or?"

"I'm good, just a little bit tired. You know how it is."

"Alright man, just let me know it anything's up. Also, here's what we're working on today," Howie said, as he handed Elliot a folder.

"Mm. Thanks."

"Yep."

Elliot let out a weary groan as he sank down into his chair.

Another boring and uneventful day at work.

--

Hey.

This isn't right, is it?

Don't you, reader, want your delicious slop?

--

It's a beautiful day in the BA. The sky is clearer than its ever been. A couple less maniacs are speeding about the roads. 

Tat. Tat. Tat. 

The birds chirp louder than before, singing their songs to the candid world.

Tat. Tat. Tat.

Isn't this so nice?

Tat. Tat. Tat. 

An old woman brewing her coffee. It's a little more bitter than usual, but that's okay. A small stream of milk begins to trickle into the cup. A little stir. Perfect. 

Tat. Tat. Tat. 

The same cold breeze sweeps over the city. 

Tat. Tat. Tat.

"Hey."

A man stands, looking at its skyline.

"There's too many people I have to say sorry to."

He pauses, collecting himself.

"My parents, my family, my friends."

Another deep breath. 

"And especially, to you, Rowan."

"I'm sorry. More than words can express. I hope you'll be happy in this life."

"Thanks for everything. Even those cookies."

A small tear.

"Didn't those taste so bad?"

More droplets begin to fall.

"Haah."

"I haven't lived that long, but know that you've made this time so much better."

He stands, wiping the tears from his face.

"Live a long and happy life..."

Whoosh!

"For me..."

Whoosh!

--

"Coming up next on the five, your traffic report! Gas prices are up a couple cents today. In other news, an unidentified man has jumped off the Muzos building. Expect more traffic than usual around that area. Stocks coming up in 7 minutes!"

--