got a mind of its own.
The two guys in the video seem like great friends. I like this video. I hover over the subscribe button and figure, âWhy not?â
They practice their secret handshake and it soon gets out of control, one of them being punched in the face. The punch goes right through the other, and thatâs where I definitely laugh out loud. Almost no one ever actually does that when they type âLOL,â but in this case, I did. I didnât even need to type out the acronym.
When the videoâs done I try playing it again but it wonât work.
Then the browser crashes.
âFuck,â I mumble, but thankfully my session is restored. But that tabâsâgo figureâmissing. It all makes sense even though it also kind of doesnât. But right about now, I donât want to be alone with a demon in this house. I know itâs early, not time forthat party yet, but I think Iâll just go to a coffee shop or get food somewhere.
I suddenly canât stand being here, alone with it.
I shiver and am confused by the fact that I can go from being curious to completely afraid just by the way everything feels around me. Itâs like... the weight of the air shifts, and at the same time my senses are all out of order. Not like I can feel what I taste, not that sort of thing. Um... itâs more like I can just feel everything more, and my nerves are extra sensitive to anything that happens. My mind is racing too, and thatâs really why I want to leave.
It feels like somethingâs sorting through my thoughts, rearranging them.
I want out. And I guess, this is my opportunity to do just that, even though I wonât really know anyone at the party, and they really want to hang around me only so that they can know more about the demon. What do you tell people if you, yourself, donât even really know what it is?
Then I get scared again, by the lone thought that lingers like it was handed to me, dropped right in my brain:
You will.
4
JON-JON WASNâT JOKING ABOUT BEING FASHIONABLY late. When I walk in, everyoneâs already watching. Theyâre like, âHunter, holy shit, look at you!â And Iâm like, âYeah, youâre looking right at me, whatâs up?â But thatâs the extent of most of our exchanges. The place is pretty swank for a high school party. But then Jon-Jon said itâs more than that. A lot of people, yup. Thereâs no way Iâm going to be comfortable here. You know that itâs a bad sign when the first thing you think about when getting to the party is how you desperately want to leave.
Ha, and I want to even more when Jon-Jon spots me.
âHunter, excellent,â he says, and gestures for me to sit with him at a table.
What is this place, I mean really? Thatâs what I want to know. Itâs a ballroom but itâs also a club. Itâs a club but itâs in someoneâs house.
âMoney, isnât it?â Jon-Jon asks me.
Iâm like, What? But really I say, âYeah.â
What else is there to say?
Iâm still thinking about the laptop thing that happened.
Iâm thinking about that video.
Iâm thinking about the way the two guys acted all genuine, cool, like longtime friends, and for some reason I think about it as fiction instead of it being something real. Those two guys are definitely real but I canât take it as that. They might as well be comic-book characters or something.
Jon-Jon tells me, âItâs okay. This will be easy money for us. Iâll get people to hang around us, and you just keep them entertained.â
I snap at him, âWhat am I, a prostitute?â
Jon-Jon laughs. âThatâs good. Be just like that.â
He leaves me at this table. I stare at empty plastic cups. I could really go for something to drink right about now.
I donât look around the room like I probably should. If I do, Iâll end up making eye