Page 27 of If the World Was Ending

COLBY: Sure.

He climbed into his van, dug out a pack of edibles, tucked them in his pocket, then locked up the van and went around the building and into the courtyard. He took the stairs two at a time to find only the metal storm door between Colby and Hunter’s apartment. Hunter’s voice came from inside. “It’s unlocked.”

Colby opened the door and stepped in. The apartment looked the same. Probably most of what Leandra had taken were her personal belongings from the bedroom and bathroom. Hunter was sitting at the dining room table. There were candles lit and a full cheesecake on the table in front of him. He was staring at it like it was the abyss.

“I finished cooking the steak and shit too. It’s in the kitchen. It’s cold, but if you want it?—”

“Nah, I ate.”

“She didn’t,” Hunter mumbled as Colby crossed the living room and entered the dining room. “She just kind of blew up at my news. Told me one commercial wasn’t enough.”

“It’s a fucking lot, Hunter,” Colby said firmly as he pulled out the chair to the right of Hunter at the small square high-top. “And it counts.”

“She’s been fucking Estelle’s son. He’s like… forty.”

Oh. Whoa.

“Who the fuck is Estelle?”

“The elderly lady with dementia that she does in-home care for in Malibu,” Hunter explained, his eyes still glued to the cheesecake. “When she first started working there, she mentioned Jeff lived there too and that he was a real estate investor. I said, shouldn’t a real estate investor live somewhere other than his mom’s house? She laughed. Guess it’s not so funny now that she’s fucking him.”

Colby did not see that coming. He didn’t know what was throwing him more, the fact that Leandra would cheat on Hunter or the fact that Hunter was telling him in a voice that was robotic and lifeless. Like it was a third-hand story, and he really didn’t give a fuck. “She said it hasn’t been going on long, but it got serious fast. And then she started packing her shit and now… she’s gone.”

“I saw her in the driveway. I didn’t know that part, though.” Colby watched helplessly as Hunter kept staring at the cheesecake and held his head in his hands above it. “I’m sorry, man. That absolutely sucks.”

“Yeah. It does. I… I really hoped it would work out.” He sighed, finally lifted his head, and grabbed a fork, offering it to Colby. “Can we eat this without plates? Like, just dig right into it like they do in movies when someone is depressed? I’ve never done that, but now seems like the time.”

“Let’s wreck that cheesecake,” Colby declared because he had no fucking idea what else to do.

Hunter picked up his own fork and drove it right into the center, scooping out a messy chunk and shoving it in his mouth.

Colby did the same.

Fuck, it was really good cheesecake.

And Colby vowed to try to be a really good friend to Hunter. The dude definitely needed one.

Chapter 8

Is he good looking?

THREE MONTHS LATER…

Hunter wondered if he should just walk out. Maybe driving for Uber would be better than this. But his car was too shitty to qualify for Uber. And also, he thought of Colby. Getting to watch Colby sing and get paid for it- that’s what kept Hunter’s butt in the seat across from Maxwell Ford, the manager of Range. And also, the manager of Tidal, Colby’s band.

“Tell me how you met Colby again?” Ford asked as he rubbed his forehead with his index finger and his tired hazel eyes narrowed on Hunter.

“We met in an earthquake,” Hunter said, not really understanding how this was a legitimate question for a bartending job. “He works at Trader Joe’s part-time, which I guess you know.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“We were both there when the quake hit.”

Ford’s eyes widen. “When we had that six-point-four quake earlier this year? Jesus. I actually got under my desk for that one. It made me think about buying an emergency kit.”

Hunter nodded and tried to not to look judgey. Lots of long-time Californians didn’t take earthquakes seriously. Ford wasn’t the only idiot. Hunter’s mom had bought him a bug-out bag, a first aid kit, and a LifeStraw before he even left Montreal. And Leandra had bought her own supplies after he pestered her. She’d taken it with her when she left. He’d bought a second bug-out bag a couple months ago when he found out Colby didn’t have his own. It was next to his in the dining room closet. “Yeah, well, that’s how we met. In the restroom waiting for it to stop.”

Ford stared at him silently for a second and then let out a huff of air from his lungs, which were likely black since his fingers were yellow from holding way too many cigarettes. “Fucking crazy. But how do you go from meeting him at a grocery store to rooming with him?”