Folded.
Dustin swallowed down a feeling he was afraid to identify.
He crossed to the desk, grabbed hisphone from his jacket pocket, and dropped onto the bed beside Greg. Not close enough to touch but almost.
Licking his lips, he unlocked his phone.
Forty-seven notifications.
Apex Energy had moved fast. Their social accounts were already lit up with the announcement of his next jump—a slick graphic of a canyon silhouette with bold text:DEVIL'S NEEDLE. ONE MAN. ONE SHOT. COMING THIS FALL.The Xtreme Doug watermark was mercifully small, tucked into the corner like even the marketing team knew better than to put a cartoon duck on something this lethal.
Dustin scrolled through the comments.
our boy has a death wish and honestly? respect
Only 2 people have ever made it through alive. 2 didn't. That's basically a coin flip.
50% fatality rate and this man said bet. Legend.
Who else is only following to see if he actually dies
RIP in advance king
That last one had eight thousand likes.
“What are you looking at?” Greg asked.
“My sponsor posted about Devil's Needle.” Dustin tilted the phone so Greg could see the graphic. “It's very tasteful, don't you think?”
Greg leaned in, squinting at the screen. His eyebrows drew together as he took in the image. “They're... advertising your potential death?”
“They're advertising my jump. The potential death is just good marketing.”
“That's horrible.”
“It is what it is.” Dustin scrolled to the comments. “People are taking bets on me. Current odds are sixty-forty against.”
Greg looked like he might be sick.
“Listen to this one.” Dustin read aloud, keeping his voice flat. “'If he dies, at least the footage will be incredible.' Heart emoji. Fire emoji. Skull emoji.”
“How are you not upset by this?”
Dustin looked at him. Greg was staring at him with that open, appalled expression that looked 100% honest.
Dustin couldn't remember the last time someone had been this upset on his behalf.
“A bunch of strangers on the internet betting on whether I live or die is just a Tuesday for me,” he said. “People love the thrill. They watch because something might go wrong.”
Greg went quiet for a moment. “Is that why you do it?”
“No.” Dustin looked back at his phone. “I don't know,” he admitted for the first time in his life. “But I'm good at it.”
He scrolled past a few more comments—one comparing him to Icarus, one accusing him of being suicidal for clout, one that was just a string of prayer hands emojis—and then his phone buzzed in his hand.
Incoming call.
Cathy.
