Kayla nods. "I mean, I know like one song? The one from that movie?"
"That's a start. I can fix you." He then goes into full-on spiel mode. "They're absolute legends,legends, thank you very much. Gone too soon. One album and then poof, vanished into the ether, leaving us mere mortals to mourn what could have been—"
The rest of the conversation dies down somewhere deep inside me, my ears picking up the words, my brain refusing to process them, and now I'm having a full mental debate, arguing with myself.
This is a coincidence
Total coincidence.
This is Chicago, for fuck's sake. There's like, what, three million people? There's gotta be more than one niche band fan in the city.
Well, more than one gay niche band fan.
Okay. More than one gay, roommate-having niche band fan.
Total fucking coincidence.
"Ace!" Becker's voice cuts through my spiral. "Reindeer duty! We need a tiebreaker!"
"Yeah." My voice sounds distant. "Right. Be right there."
I don't move.
Devon's still talking to Kayla, hands moving expressively as he explains something about track listings. He looks happy. Animated. Completely unaware that I'm standing six feet away having a complete mental breakdown.
My fingers are shaking as I pull out my phone. This is beyond stupid. It's not him. There's no chance in hell it's him.
But I have to make sure.
I open the Reddit app, navigate to my DMs, and type out the first words that come to my mind.
Need_Tailor_Chicago:What's your take on Christmas music?
I hit send.
Then I just stand there, phone clutched in my sweating palm, staring at Devon.
Nothing happens.
See? Coincidence. Total coincidence.
I'm being paranoid. Three million people in Chicago and I'm losing my mind over—
A phone pings.
On the bar.
Right next to where Devon is standing.
It's fine. Everything's fine. That could be anyone's phone. Kayla's phone. Becker's phone. Some random phone that materialized out of thin air because please God, let it be anyone—
Devon reaches for the phone.
He looks at the screen, then smiles.
My lungs have forgotten how to function, while my brain works a million bits per second.
"Spill," Kayla says, and I tune back in so fast I almost get whiplash.
