SIDE B | CHAPTER 1

Jake Carroway

April 30th, 2032

I didn't sleep at all last night. I kept thinking about what kind of hellhole I was going to be walking into the coming day. Anxiety be thy name.

Whenever my mind fixed itself on England I saw red skies and barren streets—children enslaved for a medieval labor force and at the helm of it all was the figure of darkness enshrouded by a veil of pure gold. I pictured the kind of horror that only could exist in fantasy stories of old—kingdoms of barbaric nature that bend every whim toward the ruler supreme. The thought of what kind of place awaited us gave me anything but confidence. It was those thoughts of pure evil that soaked into my terrified night-fueled mind.

The night never helped me much when I was stressed. When I was left alone with my thoughts they seemed to grow like gremlins. Tiny stresses that suddenly gain the courage to grow and become real demons. Sometimes those demons disguised themselves to cause as much damage as they possibly could.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, I pictured a glowingly perfect utopia where the rivers were made of gold and the people didn't know of such a thing as suffering. The thought of such a place existing while we existed in the desolate remains of war almost seemed worse—for if they existed in such splendor surely they have the resources to help the other countries of the world—much less the land that was actively rebuilding itself from the ground up. And for many, many years we were just left to rot. The idea of it boiled a frustration deep within me that measured to equal the fear of the hellscape in equal sound.

I found myself awake, but with my eyes closed as the possibilities melted away. I tried begging my unconscious mind to take me back—but to anywhere except where my future lie. Anything to distract my mind instead of hyper focusing. Anything to delay the inevitable by even the smallest margin. All at once bright light and sound filled the room and part of me believed that the nightmares of England had finally invaded my doorstep, but I realized that it was just my alarm cutting through the silence.

I wiped a hand across my face and it came back damp with sweat. I rubbed it all off on the blanket and tossed it off. Fuck. Today was starting off great already. My back ached and I could still recall the dream as clear as closing my eyes. The stress that bubbled up from my slumber was going to be my close companion tonight.

My flight is going to be leaving in an hour and I'm sure if I closed my eyes one more time I'd be out like a light. I know the temptress of sleep all too well and it's been a bad habit I've had a horrible time breaking.

I let loose a tight breath that seemed to hold a world's amount of toxic morning inside. Instantly my brain feels brighter and more awake. I think of coughing but don't. It's been three years since I've had C.O.P.D. My lungs were messed up and obstructed the air I'd breathe in. I had it since I was younger like my Vitiligo—my patches of discolored skin and off-color hair. While the Vitiligo didn't pass, it wasn't killing me like the C.O.P.D. was. I didn't have long to live, but the one benefit of constantly being drugged back during the days of the Radical-9 Incident...my shit cleared up. I don't know which one of the dozens of drugs I was injected with did it, but it worked. I'm sure it was just a happy accident, but one I'm grateful for every day of my life.

I definitely wouldn't be some spokesperson that jumped out on TV to speak out on the positive effects of what happened, but that's I guess why I don't let it slide to the public what exactly happened with that situation. Lord knows somebody else will try it trying to find the perfect cocktail and end up killing themselves. I...couldn't handle having that on my hands—knowing that my message inspired someone out there that they could be free of their debilitating disease by trying the riskiest thing of their life.

It still feels weird to be able to live without constantly hacking up a lung—almost like I can feel a phantom obstruction in the back of my throat. Like, I'm still intimately aware with the feeling of coughing so frequently and so nastily. I can even remember how crippling it got when a real bad spell came on. I'd have to sit down because it just scraped my insides out. I hated it almost more than anything else. Turns out the mental scars that life hands you cut deeper. Harder to treat—and often those drugs that pumped in only worsened things.

I sat up finally and let my morning stupor fade, hopefully leaving the less than pleasant thoughts behind. I wipe my face off again and just sit there a moment—as if my mind needed a moment to catch up to my body. I reached over to the end table beside my bed and grabbed my phone, clicking it on, I saw there were three messages from Jen:

"Hey. Morning doofus." - 6:30am

"Oh, look who didn't wake up to his first alarm. Great. I'm coming over and bringing the bucket. You can't get mad since I'm telling you right here."- 6:48am

"I should be there in about twenty minutes. Your last chance to avoid a freezing morning lol" - 6:55am

A sudden chill came over my shoulders as I saw it was now 7:34. My heart raced as I jumped out of bed and scrambled my clothes on—practically ripping into the dress pants to yank them up. I slid on my shoes as I was buttoning the front of my shirt, practically forgetting to breath until it was fastened correctly. I barreled down the hall to my front door. I threw open the door and was standing face to face with Jen who's face turned from a mischievous snicker to slight disappointment at seeing me awake.

"I'm up," I panted.

She stood there for a moment before launching the water at me anyway. It surprised me more than anything and cold water blasted and froze me to my core. Her grin returned, and she set the bucket down beside me and started to laugh.

"Ah! Ffff—" I try to rein my voice in, "Ffffuck that's cold."

"No, what's cold is you keeping your door locked so I couldn't do that to you when I got here. You don't even have neighbors, why are you trying to be so quiet?"

"If I were still asleep I totally understand the bucket. Why now?"

She cocked her head to one side and gave me a look. "You know enough not to wear that shirt with those dress pants."

"Well, it's going to be a right time trying to get either to work unless we're headed to the Arctic."

"Listen, I'm trying to help you, I don't need the sass back," she said, still smiling. "C'mon. I think we both know you wanted to wear the blazer."

Still sopping wet, I ran a hand through my hair and rubbed my eyes. "You know as much as I do it's not professional as a nicer shirt."

"Fuck professional, now," Jen said. "Normally, yes, I'd say go with the nicer shirt. But you're literally going to parts unknown. The highlight of anybody in this country. I think your comfort comes first in that regard. If you were going to give a speech here, sure. But nobody's gonna see you here."

"I guess I could bring a change for the ride," Matt suggested.

She nodded. "Plus, the water's a trick my mom used to tell me about. She said if you have an unpleasant experience with it it'll trigger some response in your system to wake up on time next time. Your body sort of gets used to expecting it so it just…" she makes a motion with her hands that looks like she was strangling someone. "You know?"

"I'm afraid to ask, honestly," I laughed. "Your mom used to do that to you?"

"No, but she said she used to read it somewhere. Threatened to do it to Andy, with how he always slept in."

"Oh, yeah I think if there was anyone that could oversleep me it would be him."

"Well, not today. He's already up and at the airport."

"Oh, well shit."

"Yeah, we gotta fix that for next time," she said. "Here, lemme help."

I nodded, and started to unbutton the shirt. We entered back into my bedroom and I wadded the shirt up into a ball and tossed it in the bin. It was probably ruined for all intents and purposes since it was going to be quite some time before I got the time to get it cleaned. I'd just pick up another one when I got back.

"When you get on the plane, you should maybe try reducing the number of alarms you wake up to down a peg—maybe just one like normal people," Jen said.

"Honestly, I think this is more evidence to having multiple. If I didn't I wouldn't have gotten up at all. I didn't even hear the first one go off." I took out a red shirt and was about to put it on, but I was still too wet from the bucket, so I stepped into the bathroom to grab a towel.

"Did you set it for the correct time?" She asked, grabbing the blazer out and taking it off its hanger.

After wiping myself down I shed my pants and everything underneath. I step back into the room and grab a spare pair of boxers.

"Yeah, I'm sure I did," I said, sliding them on.

"Listen, you stripping wasn't part of the plan, although it's a fantastic side effect," she chuckled.

"Only if I wasn't the only one," I called back. "And yeah, lemme confirm." I reached for my phone and opened the alarms menu. Last night after I got off the phone with you. I set it right here to...oh"

"Oh?"

"The alarm was set to 6:30...pm."

She raised her eyebrows sarcastic-like and said, "Huh, imagine that."

"Okay, okay, it was my bad. But it's all set now. Tomorrow will be on the right time."

"And you'll go down to one?"

"Why are you so dead set on me going down to one alarm?" I laughed. I turned to the red shirt I laid out on the bed and threw it on. She handed me over the blazer.

"Because," she began. "When we eventually get a place together I don't know if I'd be able to stand more than a single alarm going off."

"Maybe by then I'll have my life under my control."

"Assuming so," She said.

"Little by little," I said, picking out a dark pair of jeans from the closet. "I think the subconscious of me knows how worried I am about all this going on."

Her face softened, and in one fell swoop it lessened my worry then and there. "I know you've got a lot going on—Not everything I can even pretend to understand. But I want you to know you have a choice here. If it's too much you can let me know and I'm sure Matt will be more than fine heading it alone."

"I'm more than sure he would," I replied. "Then he'd probably come back looking like the hero of the world."

"I hope you don't care about the little rivalry you got to that point?" she asked.

I chuckled. "No, of course not. I'm going because I want to do some good for the people here. Of course I'm scared, but that can't be the reason I don't do it."

She nodded, understanding. "I agree. I'm sorry for being so prickly, and for dumping water on you. I figured being a bit spontaneous would help shatter the nerves."

"About half and half. I'd consider it working."

"Half isn't passing, so it's not satisfactory enough," she walked closer to me and pulled me close into a hug. "I just don't know what to imagine. I'm scared for you. I don't want to be fighting just before you go."

I pulled my arms around her and held her tight. Her hair smelled like jasmine. "I know. I'm going to be okay, I want you to know that. I'm going to have my phone on me and Matt will be there to have my back."

"Somehow that inspires less confidence," she said.

"Things are going to be okay. We're going to make it there and I'll even try to get some pretty sights to send to you."

She took a deep breath and said nothing. We remained there in silence until I broke off and rubbed her back. "Okay, we should get going. Going to be a little late, but Matt will have to deal with it."

Jen moved closer and put one hand on my cheek. "Let's...make him wait longer. I can't say good-bye to you just yet." And all at once my shirt was off and so was hers. I followed.

~...~

We made it to the Albany International Airport at quarter to nine. The silence was a tense nail set in-between us. What had been so easy to say back then suddenly became a reality that we didn't know how to separate. Ever since coming back into each other's lives we had spent nearly every day together. Being without her again was only a hypothetical or a "come-what-may". I...realized I was not prepared to say good-bye.

When the car stopped we simply looked at each other—perhaps all we needed to say was in that last look as I stepped out. It was far from all I wanted to say, but I...was unable. I think she felt the same, in that knowing look we met as equals.

As expected Matt had his own lecture—probably saved from some earlier sleight he never voiced his grievances on. It mostly went over my head. Andrew was there too, but he seemed to be more preoccupied with catching up with Jen to care for the time. He wore a suit—surely because he was going to be doing important business later today.

I realized then too I had no idea what he was going to be doing today. As part of the triumvirate I had always had some sort of basic idea of what the other two were going to be up to—it was my duty. And today, on the day that felt like the last day of my normal life—I felt in the dark. What was wrong with me?

The pilots came out to greet us next. They were two older gentlemen who looked capable enough, but I'd be lying if I'd said the idea of trusting them with my life was a little disconcerting.

"Well why don't we get your luggage on board and we can shove on out?" The pilot with a big bushy mustache and dark goatee had said. "I hope you're not expecting a huge empty flight to yourselves—we only got something more private flying consistently."

I held up my hands, "No, that's absolutely fine. Thank you again for your help." The pilot gleamed at the praise. They took my bag and suitcase to the plane personally. I turned to face Jen who had tears welling up in her eyes. I walked over and held her tight.

"Don't die or something equally stupid," she said and tried to laugh.

I couldn't say anything in return or else I'd start to cry too. I just held her tight until it felt right to let go...or at least, until it should have felt right, because it never did. The air hung heavy with the dark of the early morning—it was that time of the year where mornings didn't get bright until midday. It could have been four hours earlier and I wouldn't have known the difference.

Andrew walked closer and hugged me close too. He came close and whispered, "Thank you for everything."

I nodded and clapped him on the back. "I'll make you all proud here."

"Well, of course. You're the right man for the job."

I'm glad Jen pulled him back after that because I felt a wave of emotion rush over me after he said that. I started to believe it, too, but those beliefs started to fade back as Matt came by my side.

"You finished?" He said, gruff, but I could sense the snark underneath.

"Yeah, about so," I said.

"The time they spend wishing you good-bye you think we could have been halfway across the ocean by now."

"Doesn't hurt to be tender once in your life," I said.

He made a grunting sound that didn't sound affirmative or negative.

They said their good-byes to Matt, the both of them stood side-by-side as they watched us board the plane. I kept my eyes on them until the doors closed. When they did I exhaled a long breath and took one of the few available seats on the posh looking plane. All in all there were only about ten seats total, but that was still more than they needed. It was a comfortable amount of space if I had to judge. Not too close but not awkwardly far from each other, either.

Matt sat directly across from me and so quickly the uncomfortably close idea vanished into thin air. The pilots moved to their seats and I took to watching out of the window to those below. If it didn't feel real before, it had finally sunken in the totality that we were leaving. Andrew and Jen shrunk with every foot we climbed. Matt's face was locked to a grin as he eyed me up and down. He sat staring at me for several seconds until finally, "What? Is there something on my face?" His grin grew but said nothing. "What? What is it?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering..."

His consistent not-getting-to-the-point was always one of the most annoying things about him. That was a fun little quirk about Matt. He liked to be all pomp and circumstance when we're on official business, but he also had a layer underneath that loved—really loved pushing my buttons.

"Wondering...what?"

"Oh...it's not much. I was just curious on the nature of sex you and Ms. Cress thought more important than being on time. I mean, we are going to have the time so I must hear the juicy details." He crossed his legs and looked at me with candid enthusiasm. I gave him with what must have been the most vacant stare I had ever given anybody. He regarded me with a toothy grin—a rare sight if I had seen any. "Oh, I mean, I'm sure it was quite enjoyable, don't get me wrong. I just...you know, happened to take you for—"

"Take me for what, exactly?" I asked, the confusion giving way for irritation.

He raised his hands defensively, "I would have taken you for a bottom." He shrugged and turned to look out the window as if that was that.

"Uh? What? I...I'm not having this conversation with you." I said, not believing my ears. "That's..."

"Too much? I don't think so. It's just sex," he still stared out the window at the ground below. "It's not a secret you keep, or else you'd be much better about keeping it."

"What do you mean by that?!"

He chuckled and flashed his bright teeth, "I mean that if I've noticed then I'm sure others have as well. I mean, you two looked messier than how you probably left your bed."

"What do I care what you or anybody else has to think about what I do in my spare time?"

He shrugged again. "If it were anybody else other than the sister of our fine third councilman I don't think people would have any sort of care aside from tabloid gossip...but that isn't the situation we have, no? I'm sure rumors have spread already."

"Rumors? What rumors? We aren't anything new—"

"Ah, so you are having relations. Confirmation of one's assumptions are always nice." He cocked his head and rested his hands firmly in his lap. "Anyway...yes. Rumors have been spun about you using Andrew's sister to pull favor. I personally don't think it matters much considering your history with him already begets more than a sliver of familiarity, but I cannot turn a blind eye to what I see forming in the public conscious."

"Nothing is going to happen because of my personal relationship," I said.

"I never said anything would. I was just simply curious to see if I had any reason to be concerned."

"Are you?" I asked.

He winked and said no more. It aggravated me to no end. It had been three years since the three of us had gotten together, but I still could barely get a solid read on him. He kept his cards very close and rarely let personal affects intervene with his professional demeanor. Maybe it was because of their sudden trip to England. Maybe it was because they were out of The Deliverance. Or maybe it had to do with me. There was quite the age discrepancy between each of us councilmen; Andrew turned twenty-nine this coming July, Matt's coming on twenty-five himself, and I'm only twenty-one.

I guess I can kind of see his point—people might worry that I might try to cover for my age by getting pull with Andy by sleeping with his sister. I mean, if I didn't know him or her and assumed the worst of politicians altogether because of past experience...then it made a certain kind of sense...but I wouldn't let gossip get in my way. I know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I'm not trying to get pull with anybody I didn't earn.

Anyway, what was that nonsense about me being a bottom? Out of all the ways to phrase it...and as I'm sitting there confused to the umpteenth degree he leaned forward, stood to his feet, put his hand on my armrest and bent down, locking his lips onto mine. Instantly I'm driven back to this morning.

Jen kissed me and...I didn't know what happened. She wanted to...and I...wanted to. I couldn't. I flashed back even further to our first kiss nine years ago. I knew she was searching for something I couldn't give her because my C.O.P.D. was terminal back then. I didn't feel the spark she needed...but now the C.O.P.D. is gone...and those feelings weren't. They just weren't. And all at once I'm thrown back into my own body and my eyes go wide when it hit me what I came back to.

But before I could do anything he stopped, curling his lips into a smile. He bent down and whispered into my ear, "I'd get some sleep if I were you. And...I was right. You're a bottom." He walked down the aisle and found the bathroom stall in the back, looked at me once and then shut the door.