Chapter Text
- COLT -
My heart hurt more than my back, which was saying something. Jody didn’t want me on her set after all. I had been tricked by fuckin’ Gail. And now, instead of sleeping my jet lag and sadness off, I was driving to Tom Ryder’s loft to ‘pick him back up’ so he can go back to shooting Metalstorm.
You’re doing this for Jody. I tell myself over and over again. Not for Tom Ryder. Not for Gail. Jody– the sexy bacon.
So lost in my own thoughts, I almost didn’t see a man step into the road. He’s completely oblivious to my rapidly approaching vehicle. I yelp, and I slam both my feet on the brake and honk the horn at the same time.
The man looks up, blinded by the car’s headlights, and drops whatever he had been carrying to brace himself. I’m practically standing with how hard I’m pressing on the brake, and I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the sickening thunk of a man hitting my car.
The car stops.
No thunk.
I peel one eye open. Then the other. I had managed to stop just an inch short of the man.
“Oh my god,” I sigh in relief, collapsing back into my seat. I just narrowly avoided vehicular manslaughter. The man straightens slowly, patting himself over to make sure he wasn’t dead.
I replay the events that just happened. The man hadn’t even bothered to look both ways before crossing- he nearly got both of us into deep shit. I feel my anger suddenly surge forth, and I roll down my window.
“Hey, asshole!” I call out. “The hell is wrong with you?!”
The man jumps, seemingly forgetting I was here at all, and looks up at me through the windshield. His eyes widen. My eyes widen. We stare at each other for a long time.
Holy shit.
I don’t think I’m actually processing what I’m seeing. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, but the man I nearly hit looked identical to me. Same hair, same eyes, same nose, same mouth, same chin, same stubble, same everything.
I’m looking at a carbon copy of myself.
Going by the man’s slackened jaw and wide-eyed stare, he’s equally surprised as I am.
Do I have a long-lost twin? Did I nearly hit my long-lost twin with a truck?
Suddenly, the man turns and books it like a bat out of hell.
“Wha- Hey!” I call out, unbuckling my seatbelt and jumping out of the car. “Hey, wait!”
Of course, the man doesn’t wait (because that would be too easy), and he runs into an alleyway.
Why was he running? Did seeing his own face staring back at him freak him out that much? The only way I’m gonna find out is if I catch him. I groan, wondering what my life is and give chase.
He got a good head start, but clearly he’s not the athletic type. Embarrassingly easily, I’m able to catch up to him. He glances behind himself and yelps when he sees me on his heels.
“Stop running!” I shout. I reach out to grab him by his coat, but the man suddenly ducks into another alley, and I nearly crash into a wall.
Shit!
I skid across the gravel and follow him down the alleyway. I pause, realising my mysterious doppelganger is now nowhere to be seen.
For a second, I think I’ve lost him. But then I hear the clanging of metal. I look up and see the man has climbed up the fire escape of the side of some warehouse building and disappears through an open window.
He may not be fast, but he was slippery, I think, as I chase him up the fire escape. He really didn’t want to talk to me.
A few seconds later, I pull myself through the same window he disappeared through and land on some scaffolding. By the time I got inside, my doppelganger had already climbed down the scaffolding and onto the warehouse floor.
I forgo climbing down the scaffolding myself and instead throw myself off it. For me, it’s a controlled and calculated fall, resulting in minimal damage. To the man who had turned just in time to see me leap off the scaffolding, I look batshit crazy.
I land and roll across the floor, groaning as I finally come to a halt. That did not feel great on my back, but I’m otherwise okay. Thumbs up.
“Oh my god, are you okay?!” The man asks. Jesus H Christ, he even sounds like me. What the hell was today?
I look up, and he’s moved closer to me, a worried expression plastered on his face.
He thinks the chase is over.
I sit up. He stops advancing.
I stand up. His face goes pale.
The chase is not over.
“Oh, shoot,” he curses, turning and starting to run down the warehouse aisle. He barely makes it a foot before I tackle him to the ground. The man lets out a panicked cry as he tries to fight me off.
Now the chase was over.
“Let me go!! Rocky!!”
“Who are you?! Why do you look like me?!” I interrogate, trying to hold him down- he’s actively fighting back, and I can see an astronomical amount of panic on his face. This isn’t helping- it’s making it worse.
Before I even have the chance to let go of him, I’m suddenly flung halfway across the room and crash into a large stack of cardboard boxes.
I black out for a few seconds from the impact and am certain I’m going to feel that tomorrow.
“Rocky!” The man shouts. “Too much!”
“🎶!”
I hear the squeak of shoes as the man runs up to me and crouches at my side.
“I am so, so, so, sorry!” The man exclaims, hands hovering above me, unsurely. “Apology apology apology. Oh, gosh, that must’ve hurt. I’m so sorry!”
“The hell just hit me?” I slur out, rolling over onto my back and looking up at... my face. Okay, I don’t like that.
“Uh, that would be my friend, Rocky,” the other me informs awkwardly.
“Urgh, oh my god,” I wince, slowly sitting up. “I feel like I just got hit by a boulder...”
I look over and behind the man who is me but is not me, is a boulder. A boulder with legs. I stare at it. It stares at me. It suddenly shifts, and I feel my heart skip a beat.
Holyshitthatthingjustmovedonitsown.
“🎶!” It screeches, its back arm-claw raised and pointed at me.
“What the hell is that thing?!” I exclaim. The other me looks back at the boulder, then back at me.
“That’s Rocky,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.
“Uh...”
“He’s an alien,” the other me tacks on, shuffling awkwardly. I look between my doppelganger and the alien rock.
“Am I high right now?” I suddenly ask. “I don’t do drugs, but this feels like something a high person would see.”
The other me seems caught off guard by this and gives me a once-over.
“Well, I really hope you weren’t high since you were driving a car, and that’s highly irresponsible,” the other me chided. “But, you’re probably not high.”
“🎶?”
My eyebrows raise. It sounded like the boulder made a strange musical noise that the other me huffs at.
“Not high as in altitude, high as in on drugs,” the other me states.
“Huh?” I blink.
“What?” The other me responds.
“I don’t... What were you just saying?” I ask.
“What do you... oh! Oh, I was just responding to Rocky.”
“The boulder... spoke?”
“Yeah, did you not–”
“🎶.”
The other me’s eyes widen, and he turns to look at the boulder– Rocky.
“Rocky! That is not a nice thing to say!” He looks back at me. “I am so sorry, he didn’t mean that.”
Oh. The strange music coming from the alien rock was it apparently talking, and apparently, the other me could understand it. Or he was crazy. I was leaning towards the crazy. Still though, I was curious...
“What did it say?”
“You didn’t...? Oh! Right. You can’t understand him, can you?” The other me states. I shake my head.
“What did it say?” I repeat.
“Nothing worth repeating,” the other me dismissed. “He’s just being rude.”
“🎶!” Rocky stomps his foot. There’s no way that thing actually said something. The other me seems agitated.
“Truthfully, you’re just being rude, Rocky. You gotta start using your manners.”
“🎶.”
“I don’t care if I’m the only one who understands you, I don’t want to hear you being a butthead.”
Yeah, no, this dude was insane. He was talking to a rock.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I mumble, pinching the bridge of my nose. I look back up and see my look-alike staring at me. “Who are you? Why do you look like me?”
“I guess you’re owed an introduction,” the other me sighs defeatedly. He looks up at me, smiles, and holds his hand out. “Hi, I’m Dr Ryland Grace. You can call me Grace. That’s what everyone calls me...”
I stare at him suspiciously long enough that Grace begins lowering his hand. I sigh and finally take it.
“Colt Seavers,” I reply, shaking his hand. Grace lights up at this.
“Wow! That’s a really cool name!” Grace compliments energetically. “Much cooler than mine, that’s for sure.”
“You look like me,” I say, dropping Grace’s hand.
“I do,” Grace nods. “It’s weird, right?”
“Why did you run when you saw me?”
“Uh, that’s a little complicated, but to put a long story short, I wasn’t expecting to run into someone with my face, and I freaked out a little.”
“Run into me?” I repeat incredulously. “I nearly mowed you over with my car! Which, by the way, would have been your fault since you didn’t bother to look both ways before crossing!”
“You’re absolutely right,” Grace nods, having the decency to look ashamed. “I haven’t been in a city for a long time, and I kinda forgot cars existed. So, thank you. For not running me over.”
“That’s kinda a low bar you’ve set for yourself. But, yeah, sure, whatever. You’re welcome, I guess.”
“🎶? 🎶!”
“Yes, I know I was being stupid, Rocky. I’ll be more mindful next time, okay?”
“There’s no way you’re actually understanding that thing,” I call out. “That’s not even a language! That’s a piano being thrown down a cliff!”
“It is, actually!” Grace says, letting out a startled laugh. “The language is super interesting because it does sound like a bunch of disorganised musical notes, but if you listen enough, you can start making out the patterns. It’s called Eridian- it’s the primary speaking language Eridians use to communicate on their planet. I’ve only really recently become fluent in the language... hearing it. Not speaking it. Humans don’t have enough vocal cords to speak it themselves.”
“Wow, that was... a passionate reply,” I blink.
“Sorry,” Grace apologises, flushing in embarrassment.
“Oh, no! It’s fine,” I say, suddenly feeling bad. “I just wasn’t expecting such an involved answer.”
“That’s understandable,” Grace nods, fiddling with the cuff of his sweater. I stare at him. God, he looks so much like me it’s insane.
“I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing my temples to stave off the impending headache. “I’m just having a hard time understanding the situation and you... Are we brothers? Like, twin brothers?”
“Oh, no,” Grace waves off with a surprising amount of certainty. I frown.
“Are we related at all? Do you know? You sound like you know.”
“We’re not related in the way you’re thinking,” Grace answers. “Well, I’m guessing our DNA is identical but–”
“But we’re not twins?”
“Well, no, we have different parents–”
“Do we? Who was your mother? What was her name?”
“Cynthia Grace?”
“My mother’s name is Cynthia Seavers.”
“Oh, wow, okay,” Grace bobs his head. “That’s trippy, but not totally unexpected. It makes sense.”
“And we’re not twins?”
“No–”
“But we’re identical.”
“That doesn’t make us twins, because–”
“But you said our DNA is identical. That makes us twins, no?”
“No, we’re not. Identical twins share 99.999% DNA. I believe we’d share 100%-”
“So, we’re super twins?”
“Colt,” Grace finally breaks. “I can’t give you the answers you’re looking for when you keep interrupting me.”
“Right,” I blink. “Sorry. I’ve got like, crazy jet lag right now.”
“No worries,” Grace sympathises. “It’s okay.”
“Continue,” I encourage. Grace looks at me with pursed lips.
“Actually, can you give me one of your hands?”
I should probably ask more questions, but instead I comply and hold out my right hand. Grace gently takes my hand and holds it against his own right hand. He leans in closely, so much so that I can feel his warm breath against my hand.
“Uh, so, what are you doing?” I finally ask.
“Confirming a hypothesis,” Grace informs, letting go of my hand. “Identical twins can share up to 99.999% of DNA, but what they can’t share are fingerprints. No matter what, everyone’s fingerprints are going to be different.”
“Sure,” I nod along.
“So, our fingerprints are identical.”
“Oka– what?”
That can’t be true. Is he being serious? He’s being serious.
“What I’ve been trying to get at is that I’m your doppelganger. Not your twin,” Grace declares.
“Okay, so, what does that mean?” I ask, feeling lost.
“🎶,” Rocky chitters.
“Rock, you gotta stop being so judgey,” Grace frowns.
“🎶.”
“Obviously, it’s obvious to us! That doesn’t mean it is to everyone else!”
I suddenly get the sense that the boulder just made a comment on my intelligence.
“He seems nice,” I remark, trying to diffuse the situation.
“He’s nice when he wants to be,” Grace smiles, turning his attention back to me. “So, what do you know about the multiverse?”
“You gotta be kidding me,” I say.
I had been involved in enough movies about the multiverse to be a seasoned veteran. Each movie was a little different about how the multiverse worked, but the gist was the same. Grace was implying he was from another universe.
I look to Grace, and then I look over to Rocky, who has taken a few steps closer to us. You know what? Sure. Maybe I’m insanely jet-lagged, but I’m ready to accept the multiverse answer.
“I know it’s a lot to wrap your head around,” Grace begins, but I hold my hand out to stop him.
“Nope. Makes perfect sense. We’ve got the same face, you’ve got a musical pet rock–”
“Whoa!” Grace exclaims, holding his hand up to stop the conversation. “Rocky is not a pet!”
“He isn’t?” I frown.
“No! Definitely not! He’s like 300 years old, and he’s one of the best engineers in his field of work!”
“Wa... really?”
“Yeah, he’s completely sentient,” Grace nods.
“🎶,” Rocky hisses.
“You gotta chill out, Rocky,” Grace scolds. “Don’t you remember when I first arrived on Erid, and everyone thought I was your pet?”
“...🎶.”
“The word you’re looking for is touche,” Grace answers pointedly. Grace looks back at me. “Sorry,” he apologises. “He’s been a little touchy since we got here.”
“🎶.”
“Have too.”
“🎶.”
“I’m not doing the back and forth thing with you.”
While they’re busy arguing with each other, my brain helpfully supplied to me that I’m still supposed to go check in on Ryder at his loft and get him back to set. Crap.
“🎶.”
“Are you okay?” Grace asks, looking at me. “Rocky says your heart rate just jumped up.”
“That’s a creepy thing to do,” I say, crossing my jacket over my front in order to hide my heart better. “And I just remembered I’m meant to be doing something important before I nearly ran you over.”
“Oh! My gosh! I’m so sorry for distracting you!” Grace apologises. God, this man was obnoxiously polite.
“Nah, it’s fine,” I wave off. “But I probably should get going. It’s sorta a time-sensitive errand. Do I just leave the way I came in?”
“Uh, no, there’s a back door. I can walk you to it if you want?”
“Yeah, sure,” I shrug. Grace stands up and holds his hand out to me. Well, if he’s offering... I take his hand, and Grace pulls me up as if I weigh nothing at all. “Whoa!”
“What?” Grace asks, tilting his head.
“Nothing,” I shrug off. He frowns. “It’s just that you’re a lot stronger than you look.”
“Oh. Thank you. I think?”
Grace turns and begins leading me through the warehouse to the supposed back door.
“What’s an alternate version of myself doing in a different universe?” I finally ask.
“🎶,” Rocky trills, making me jump. I hadn’t noticed he had been following us.
“I think he deserves to know after you threw him halfway across the warehouse,” Grace hums.
“Uh, I agree with that,” I add, picking up on what they’re talking about. Rocky grumbles, but I don’t think he actually said anything.
“Rocky here built a machine, but it malfunctioned and shucked us into a completely different universe. Now, we’re stuck here until Rocky can make a new one.”
“You’re stuck here?”
“Yeah,” Grace nodded.
“For how long, do you think?”
“For however long it takes for Rocky to rebuild the machine. That part won’t take long. What’s taking the longest is getting the parts needed for the machine.”
“🎶.”
“Yes, I know it’s Grace’s job,” Grace retorts.
“What sorta parts do you need?” I inquire.
“Nothing crazy,” Grace shrugged. “But we’ve got no money, and I can’t get a job without proof of identity. There’s a surprising lack of employers who are willing to pay under the table.”
“And you can’t steal?”
“I’m very much not comfortable with stealing,” Grace frowns.
We walk in silence for a moment before I pause. A thought suddenly occurs to me, and I pull my wallet out from my back pocket. I take out my ID and flip it around to show it to Grace, raising my brows questioningly. It takes Grace a few moments to process what I’m not verbally saying.
“Wait. Oh my god,” Grace realises.
“🎶?!” Rocky chirps, stretching his legs to try and see what I’m showing to Grace. I move and hold the card in front of Rocky, who stomps his front foot a few times and then trills in agitation.
“It’s Colt’s ID card,” Grace explains to Rocky. “It’s got his face on it, which also happens to be the same as my face.”
“Can he not see it?” I frown. I do notice Rocky doesn’t actually have a face, but he’s been able to navigate around us easily, so he must be able to see.
“Rocky sees with sound- echolocation,” Grace explains. “He needs raised surfaces to see so, to him, you’re just showing him a very thin rectangle.”
“Oh,” I say, lowering my hand. “Noted.”
“🎶?”
“Well, yeah,” Grace nods. “It could work in theory.”
“What’s he saying?” I ask.
“He’s asking if using your ID will make it so I can get a job and earn money.”
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t work,” I shrug, looking at Grace. “You look like me. You’d just need to lose the glasses.”
“I mean, sure, but it’s not that simple,” Grace frowns. “There’s a lot of moving parts to this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You still need your ID, Colt,” Grace points out. “I can’t just take it from you.”
“Oh... right.”
I’ll blame my jet lag for my lack of critical thinking. I frown in thought for a moment.
“Why don’t you just come with me while I run my errand, and then when I’m done, you could borrow my ID for the night,” I offer. “Could that work?”
“I don’t think there are a lot of people hiring at this time of night,” Grace hums.
“Maybe you can’t get a job tonight, but you can still use my credit card to start buying the machine parts you need. I’ll drive you around after I run my errand.”
“What? No! I can’t take your money,” Grace shakes his head.
“🎶.”
“No! We’re not taking his money, Rocky!”
“Sure you can,” I encourage. “That’s what doppelgangers do for each other, right?”
“I really don’t feel–”
“🎶.”
Rocky says something that sounds surprisingly melancholy, and Grace pauses. He looks at Rocky for a few moments before sighing and rubbing his face.
“What’s your errand?”
“I gotta check in on my dickhead coworker who decided to stop showing up for work,” I explain, putting my hands on my hips. “You wanna tag along? It feels weird to leave you in a warehouse.”
“🎶?”
“Could Rocky come?”
Rocky has perked up hopefully, and I don’t have it in me to say no to the space rock.
“The more the merrier, right?”
Rocky then whistles happily and begins doing jazz hands. It’s surprisingly endearing, and even Grace smiles at Rocky’s actions.
“Then, sure, we can tag along if you’ll have us,” Grace nods. “It’ll be cool to hang out with my doppelganger anyway.”
I smile and nod, and the three of us make it back to where I had ditched the truck. By some miracle, the truck hadn’t been stolen even though I left the engine running and the car door wide open.
Grace rounded to the front of the car and picked something up.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Well, it was a PC tower I found at the junk yard. Figured Rocky might be able to do something with it,” Grace shrugged. “Dropped it when you nearly hit me.”
Rocky walks up to Grace and seems to be examining what he’s holding. He then shakes his... head? Center? Middle? Main body part? I don’t know.
“🎶.”
“Yes,” Grace agrees, looking down at Rocky. “It is garbage.”
“Put it to the side or something and get in,” I call out. Grace nods and hesitantly puts it on the side of the road before approaching the car. He frowns and then begins looking around.
“We’re... we’re in Australia, right?” Grace asks, scratching his head.
“Yeah?”
“I thought Australians drove on the left side of the road,” Grace continues, staring at the truck.
“They do,” I confirm. I point to the truck. “This is a right-side driving truck.”
“I was gathering that,” Grace huffs.
“🎶!”
“What? No, you can’t have shotgun, Rock- where’d you even learn that phrase? I didn’t teach you that.”
“🎶,” Rocky replies.
“I gotta take away your computer privileges,” Grace shakes his head. “You’re abusing the power I gave to you. Now, please get into the back of the truck. That’s the only place you’re gonna fit.”
Rocky chitters and crawls into the bed of the pickup truck. The truck audibly groans and creaks under Rocky’s weight.
“Jesus,” I draw out, watching Rocky get comfortable in the back. “How heavy is he?”
“400 pounds on Earth, give or take,” Grace answers, getting into the passenger's seat.
“What do you mean on Earth?” I ask, getting into the driver’s seat.
“The gravity on his planet is two times as much as ours,” Grace explains, buckling his seatbelt. “So, he’d be 800 pounds on his planet.”
“Christ,” I remark. Grace turns around in his seat and taps the glass to get Rocky’s attention.
“You good back there, Rock?” Grace calls out.
Rocky gives Grace a thumbs down, and Grace returns the gesture with a thumbs down of his own.
“Is everything okay?” I frown. Grace looks at me and smiles.
“Yeah, we’re good to go,” Grace nods.
“But, he did the–” I make a thumbs down gesture with my own hand. Grace seems perplexed for a moment before his eyes light up in understanding.
“Rocky doesn’t have the dexterity to make a thumbs-up,” Grace informs. “So, his thumbs down-” Grace makes a thumbs down. “Is actually–” Grace flips his thumbs down into a thumbs up. “A thumbs up.”
“Oh, I see! Well, that’s good to know,” I smile, giving him a thumbs up. I take the truck out of park and begin driving down the road.
“Wow,” Grace breaths out, sounding absolutely in wonder. I glance over to Grace, who’s looking around the car.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, it’s just... it’s so empty,” Grace says, gesturing to the dashboard.
“Does your car have more buttons or something?” I inquire.
“No, but my spaceship does,” Grace replied. I do a double-take. Is he serious? I do a triple-take. He looks serious.
“You have a spaceship?!” I shout. Grace frowns at me.
“Well, yeah! How do you think I met this guy?!” Grace says, gesturing to Rocky behind him.
“I don’t know! I just figured he came to Earth in a UFO or something! Are you seriously saying you’re an astronaut?!”
“I mean, I guess, technically?” Grace shrugs awkwardly. “I don’t really see myself as one, but I technically count as one, sure.”
“That’s insane, holy shit!” I exclaim.
“That’s what’s blowing your mind? Seriously?! Me being an astronaut is more insane to you than me being from an alternate universe?” Grace gapes.
“Yeah!” I nod. “I mean, that’s my face in space, doing astronaut things! And, no offence, you give off more school teacher vibes than astronaut vibes.”
“I am a school teacher...”
I do a double-take. Is he serious? I do a triple-take. He looks serious.
“You’re a school teacher?”
“Yes? I taught 8th-grade science.”
“You’re a school teacher who’s also an astronaut?”
“I also have a doctorate in molecular biology if you want to freak out about that too,” Grace snarks. This fucking guy...
I’m suddenly feeling very inadequate sitting in the car with my doppelganger beside me. Grace is a school teacher with a doctorate in molecular biology who’s also an astronaut with his own spaceship and cool alien sidekick. And here I am, Colt Seavers, who barely managed to graduate high school and was now a disgraced stuntman running errands for fuckin’ Gail in a desperate attempt to win back the sexy bacon- Jody.
The universe is feeling very unbalanced.
“You know,” I begin casually. “I played an astronaut for a movie once...”
That didn’t sound impressive out loud in the slightest, but I had to say something to try and level the playing fields.
“You’re an actor?” Grace perks up in interest.
“Stuntman,” I correct, waiting for the disappointed ‘oh’. It didn’t come.
“Wait, that’s so much cooler!” Grace exclaims excitedly. I jerk up in surprise.
“Really?” I blink. He’s just saying that to make me feel better, I’m sure of it.
“Are you kidding me? Stunt doubles are the unsung heroes of almost every movie in existence. And you’re one of them! That’s so cool!”
“You really think that?” I ask hopefully.
“Absolutely! The amount of bravery it takes to do that kinda stuff is... beyond admirable.”
“I did a car roll today,” I inform, wanting more approval. “Flipped a car on purpose and just rolled across the beach for a couple of hundred feet or so.”
“Holy moly,” Grace says with wide eyes, leaning back in his seat. “And you just walked away from it a-okay?”
“Pretty much,” I shrug. “Couple of bruises and a sore back, but pretty good for my first day back on the job.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ah, well,” I grimace, realising I had just dug my own grave. “A year ago, I had an accident. I was filming for a movie, and the shot required the main character to fall from twelve stories. The first take went fine, but the second... I don’t know, something went wrong, and I ended up with a broken back for it.”
“Oh my god,” Grace gaped, horrified. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a small smile.
“Wait, and on your first day back on the job, you do a car roll?”
“Sure did.”
“Geez, man. I wish I were as hardcore as you are,” Grace says longingly. “Oh my gosh, and you jumped off the scaffolding chasing me today. You know, you really scared the nuts outta me when you did that.”
I look over at him humorously.
“Do you ever swear?”
“Pardon?”
“You really scared the nuts outta me?” I repeat while trying to keep myself from laughing. “Just say shit.”
The fact that Grace makes a face at the swear word only makes the situation funnier.
“I don’t like swearing,” Grace shrugs.
“Say shit,” I encourage.
“I’m not saying the s-word,” Grace shakes his head. I laugh.
“The s-word? What’s the s-word?”
“You know what the s-word is.”
“No... no, I don’t think I do. You should teach me the s-word. You’re a teacher after all.”
“I teach 8th-grade science. I don’t swear,” Grace declares.
“Oh, come on,” I say. “That’s a flimsy excuse. Besides, there are no kids around. Say it. Say shit.”
“Ship,” Grace evades.
“Shit,” I correct.
“Shop.”
“Shit.”
“Shack.”
“Shit.”
“Shirt,” Grace counters. He gives me a pointed look. “I can go all day.”
“Unbelievable,” I begin. “I can’t believe there’s a world out there where I don’t swear!”
“Well, I can’t believe that there’s a world where I have the mouth of a sailor!” Grace rebuts. “And for the record, I occasionally say hell.”
“Oh, come on, that’s not a swear! That’s a location,” I argue.
There’s no real heat to our conversation- we’re not actually arguing. There was just something very pleasant about throwing jabs at each other.
“Is it egotistical to be enjoying a conversation with myself this much?” I ask Grace. He’s the scientist after all. If anyone knew the right answer to this question, it would be him.
“I don’t think so,” Grace hums. “We’re just two very cool people who just so happen to have the exact same face.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I smile. I leave our conversation open-ended as I turn into the open area under Tom Ryder’s loft. “We’re here.”
“Where’s the front door?” Grace asks, looking around.
“I’m not going through the front door,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt and putting my hat on backwards.
“Then, where are you–?” Grace looks up. “You’re going up there?!”
“Yep,” I nod.
“But, why? Why not just use the front door?”
“Because,” I begin, taking out the sticky note from my pocket and flashing it at Grace. “I only have the code to the porch door.”
“Why?!” Grace asks, watching me get out of the car.
“It’s the one Gail gave me,” I shrug. “So, I’m gonna go up there, get Tom Ryder up off his ass, and then come back down, and then we can go do your thing. Sound good?
“No? This seems unsafe,” Grace frowns.
“You kidding me? It’s totally safe,” I soothe. “I won’t be long. Just keep your head down and stay in the car.”
Before Grace could protest any further, I had already closed the car door on him. Rocky stood up in the truck bed to watch me... well, at least I think he’s watching me. I shoot him a thumbs-up.
Rocky stares at me for a moment before raising his arm and giving me a thumbs down– his equivalent of a thumbs up.
“Nice,” I say. “We’re bonding.”
“🎶.”
I climb up onto the car roof and then jump over to the ladder leading up to Tom Ryder’s porch. From below me, I hear Rocky whistle at me, unsurely.
I climb over the railing and quickly find the porch door. Aloud, I begin practising what I’m going to say to Tom.
“Tom, long time no see. Gail asked me to check and make sure you’re okay.”
I knock on the porch door, hoping he'll just answer so I can get this over with as soon as possible.
“Colt, thought you were dead. Why you got to be such a pussy bitch?” I reply to myself, pretending I was Tom. No one answers the door, so I pull the sticky note out of my pocket and walk over to the keypad.
“Tom, I’m gonna have to ask you not to refer to me as a pussy or a bitch,” I mumble, typing in the code for the door.
“Okay,” I say as Tom, opening the door and walking in. “But you got hurt like a pussy, and you’re acting like a bitch.”
“Tom?” I call out, making my way down the stairs and start wondering about the loft. “Colt Seavers. Just checking in on you. Jody needs you back on set, pal. And I-I don’t want to be part of any breaking-in, role-play games.”
I hear no response. I continue walking around and notice the hundreds and hundreds of sticky notes on Tom’s wall. Why the hell does he even do this? I make my way over to the light panel to turn the lights on, but I notice a sticky note. I squint and pull it off the wall to read.
Why is chinese chicken orange?
“Well, all right,” I mumble, putting it back up. I turn the lights on, and as soon as I do, DJ Khaled begins blaring loudly throughout the loft.
Well, if he didn’t know I was here before, he does now. Waiting for him to make his appearance, I begin pursuing his shelf of movie memorabilia. I spot a gun on display, and because I don’t trust Tom, I double-check to see that the only thing loaded in the gun was blanks.
I suddenly notice the coffee machine in his kitchen and make a beeline for it. God, I wanted a cup of coffee so bad; at least something was looking up for me.
I make sure to add extra creamer so it's just how I like it. I gaze lovingly at my coffee when, from behind me, I hear the slice of metal through the air, and a woman gives out a battle cry.
“Whoa! What the-?” I narrowly dodge a blonde woman slice me in half. The katana she’s wielding lands in the coffee machine, which prompts me to cover my cup with my hand to keep it safe.
She swings again, and I roll over the counter, still managing to keep my drink from spilling. Anything to protect my sweet sweet coffee.
I run when suddenly my foot catches on the corner of the stairs, and I go tumbling into the couch, my coffee spilling everywhere. I angrily slam the cup onto the floor, letting it shatter like my hopes and dreams.
The woman appears again and launches herself at me. I react quickly and throw a blanket at her, which she gets caught in and falls to the floor.
I take the opportunity to book it to the next room over to hide.
Okay, I need to leave right now. I’m not interested in getting killed tonight. I have a lot more problems that need to be addressed.
I creep along the wall, but as soon as I get to the edge of it, the woman swings her sword and embeds it in the corner of the wall, narrowly missing my face. I frown.
“Why do you look so familiar?” I ask. She pulls the sword out and tries to swing at me again, but I back up and roll across Tom’s bed to put some distance between us. I grab one of Tom’s stupid awards to wield as my own weapon. She stands in front of me. I know her, I’m sure of it. “Where do I know you from?!”
“I’m Iggy Starr, lead actress on Metalstorm,” she says as if it were obvious. “I’m Ryder’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, you’re in Metalstorm,” I remember. “Hey, were you in that movie Carjacked where that guy named Jack steals your car and then you shoot him in the hand and you say, ‘hope you know how to drive stick’? And it doesn’t make sense ‘cause it’s like, should be ‘automatic,’ but the way you say it–”
“That’s Naomi Watts!” She shouts, swinging at me. I duck for cover as she begins swinging with reckless abandon. This is not going well.
“Colt!” A familiar voice calls out, appearing in the room.
“Grace?!” I say, sitting up. Iggy pauses her attack, looks at Grace, then back at me.
“You have a twin?” Iggy asks, lowering her weapon.
“Oh, wow, and you have a sword,” Grace gulps, taking a step back. I use the distraction Grace provided to take the sword from Iggy. I frown as I look at it and feel the weight in my hand.
“Is this a prop sword?” I ask. Iggy smiles and nods. Oh my god.
Rocky suddenly scampers in and raises his back leg claw thing at Iggy, snapping it threateningly.
“Rocky, it’s fine,” I say, holding my hand out placatingly. I look at Grace. “It’s not a real sword.”
“What is that?” Iggy asks, eyes wide, staring at Rocky.
“Uhhhhh, anamatronic!” I exclaim, quickly coming up with a lie. “For Metalstorm!”
“Why do we need a rock spider for Metalstorm?” She frowns.
“He’s actually an Eridia–”
“Can’t go wrong with too many aliens, am I right?” I interrupt Grace.
“But, why are you sneaking around here with the animatronic and your brother?”
“He’s not my-” I start, and then pause. She’s not going to believe me if I say he isn’t my brother, and it’ll be too complicated to explain the full story. And frankly, she doesn’t need to know. “Uh, we uh, wanted to show Tom our cool new animatronic, right, Grace?”
“What?”
“Speaking of Tom,” I continue, trying to get things back on track. “Where is he? Is he here?”
“No. He’s like really drugged up and paranoid right now. He thinks someone’s trying to kill him.”
“Oh, no, that doesn’t sound good,” Grace frowns.
“Do you have any idea where I can find him?” I ask Iggy.
“Uh, you could try this club he hangs out at. But you’re never going to get in looking like a povo.”
“What’s a povo?” I frown.
“A poor person, like you,” she answers.
“Oh. Cool,” I nod.
“🎶?”
“I’m not gonna get into economics with you right now,” Grace says quietly to Rocky.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I announce, grabbing Grace by his shoulders and dragging him out of the room. I turn to look at him. “What the hell are you doing up here?”
“You were getting attacked,” Grace frowned. “I couldn’t just sit in the car and do nothing.”
“Wait. How did you know I was getting attacked?”
“Rocky,” Grace answers. “He can see through walls and has insane hearing, so he heard everything and freaked out when someone with a sword appeared behind you.”
“🎶.”
“His hearing is that good?” I gape. “Wait... He heard everything? Did he hear when I...?”
“It’s okay,” Grace comforts. “I pretend to have conversations with other people all the time.”
“Oh my god,” I say.
“So,” Grace segways. “Your coworker friend isn’t here?”
“He’s not my friend,” I correct.
“And there’s a scary lady with a sword,” Grace adds on.
“That’s Tom’s girlfriend.”
“🎶?”
“It means mate,” Grace explains to Rocky.
“Okay,” I begin. “So, this is becoming a little more complicated than I thought. I need to go to this club to find Tom; it’s really important that I find him ASAP.”
“Yeah, of course. Is there anything I can do to help?” Grace inquires.
“I don’t think so,” I shake my head. “But to get into this club, I need to wear something that’s gonna get me in... I could probably pretend to be Tom Ryder...”
“Pretend to look like him? How are you gonna pull that off?”
“Easy. I’m his stunt double,” I smirk. “All I gotta do is wear his clothes, some sunglasses, and then just act like a Grade-A dickwad.”
“Is he really that bad?” Grace frowns.
“Oh, he’s that bad,” I nod.
“I did notice a concerning amount of sticky notes everywhere...” Grace trails off. “Some of them seem... vaguely concerning.”
“Yeah, no, he’s crazy,” I state. I nudge Grace to get him to follow me as I walk to Tom’s closet. “I’m raiding Ryder’s closet!” I yell to Iggy.
We enter, and his wardrobe is painful to look at. He has such a strange taste in clothing, and I’m not looking forward to having to wear one of these gaudy outfits.
“Just so you know,” Iggy begins, appearing in the closet doorway. “It’s neon night at the club so...”
I breathe through my nose.
“Of course it is,” I say. I turn to see a very hideous neon-yellow suit with a long neon-yellow coat. Well, at least I don’t have to debate on what to wear. “This will do.”
“Wow, that is very neon,” Grace observes.
“🎶?”
Grace opens his mouth to answer Rocky, but I give him a pointed look. He can’t be talking to an ‘animatronic’. Grace closes his mouth. Rocky chitters in annoyance and stomps his foot.
“🎶!? 🎶?”
“You know,” Grace begins. “I just love how neon is super super loud colour-wise.”
From that, I gather that Rocky had been asking what neon was. It made sense that a being with no eyes would have no concept or even a word for neon.
“You’re weird,” Iggy states, looking at Grace. Grace hangs his head and sighs loudly. “You know, it’s kinda creepy how you two look so similar to each other.”
“Well,” I start. “That’s kinda how identical twins are.”
“Which is what we are,” Grace adds on unhelpfully. He’s not a good liar in the slightest.
“I’m gonna go in the other room and change,” I inform, walking out of the closet. I tried to change as quickly as possible, worried that any extra second of leaving those three alone would result in some catastrophe.
My insides flip-flop as I look down at my hideous neon yellow outfit. Who would wear something as awful as this? The answer is Tom Ryder.
Shaking my head, I reenter the closet and see that Iggy has moved closer to Rocky and is visually inspecting him.
“So, how do you control it? I don’t see a controller,” Iggy asks, tilting her head.
“Uhhhh,” Grace panics.
“AI,” I drop in. “Yeah, uh, it functions all on its own, but it takes instructions and stuff.”
“Yeah,” Grace bobs his head. “What he said.”
“🎶!”
“It makes very cute noises,” Iggy smiles. She looks up at me and evaluates my outfit. “That’ll do. But, it needs some accessories.”
I look at the island in the closet where a bunch of sunglasses are laid out, and grab a pair.
“Ooh, this beanie matches your outfit,” Grace says, tossing a neon yellow beanie to me. “Man, I love beanies so much.”
I put on the beanie and the sunglasses, then hold my hands out while giving a slow twirl for their viewing pleasure.
“So? How do I look?”
“It’s a unique look,” Grace comments.
“Looks will only get you partway. If you want to get into the club, you’re also gonna have to act like Tom. You’re his stunt double. You know how to do that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ll just act like I own everything and everyone, and there’s no repercussions for my actions.”
“Nailed it,” Iggy hums. “Tom’s always at this club with this guy called Doone, who’s his drug dealer. He’s got like leopard print tats on his head.”
“Well, that’s a choice,” Grace blinks. “And drugs? Are we sure this is safe?”
“Of course it’s not safe, Tom is hanging with shady, shitty people,” Iggy remarks. “But, if you want to find Tom, you’ll probably find him at the club.”
“Then, that’s where I’ll go,” I declare.
“Wait. So, he’s afraid that someone is trying to kill him, and his reaction to that is to go to a club?” Grace frowns. “That doesn’t seem very logical.”
“🎶.”
“What can I say? Tom is Tom,” I shrug. I turn to Iggy. “Could you show us the actual door we can leave through?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Iggy nods, leading us to the front door. I make sure to grab my clothes on the way out. No way am I leaving my Miami Vice Stunt Team jacket here. “When you find Tom, tell him to text me back, or I’m gonna kill him myself.”
“Wow, that’s passionate,” Grace reacts. I pat Grace on the back and urge him out the front door. Rocky trails behind us. Iggy closes the door.
We have to walk down a few flights of stairs before we reach the ground floor, and I frown as a thought occurs to me.
“How did you and Rocky get into the loft?” I ask Grace.
“We went up the same way you did,” Grace replies. “You’d be surprised how dexterous Rocky can be for something that weighs 400 pounds.”
“Well, I appreciate the save,” I thank.
“Wasn’t much of a save,” Grace mumbles. We reach the truck and get in.
“Sorry, this is taking so long,” I apologise, backing up into the street.
“No, no, it’s all good. This is important,” Grace nods. “Can I ask a question, though?”
“Sure.”
“Why is finding this guy so important? I know you mentioned something about him missing work, but if you’re not friends, why is it you who’s looking?”
“Tom Ryder is the male lead actor for this movie called Metalstorm. Now, Tom’s producer, Gail, tricked me onto the set so I can go look for him because I know him and no one's gonna notice I’m not there because I’m the stunt double...”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Grace cuts in. “You were tricked? How were you tricked?”
“It’s... not important,” I shrug off quietly.
“Okay, well, it sounds important,” Grace replies. “And it’s not cool that she tricked you.”
“She made me think the director of the movie asked for me personally,” I admit. I wanted Grace to know now because he strangely made me feel more validated. “And I wouldn’t have cared if the director personally asked for me, but the director was Jody.”
“Jody... who’s Jody?”
“She’s...” I trail off, trying to find the right words to describe her. “We were dating before the accident. But then, I broke my back, and I just disappeared. I moved, I changed my number, I ran away. I hurt her really badly, and I knew that there wasn’t a lot I could do or say to make it better, so I just never did.”
“And then Gail tells you she wants you on set,” Grace put together. I nod. “But she didn’t?”
“No,” I shake my head, recalling my subpar reunion with Jody. “No, she did not.”
“Wow. That... sucks really bad,” Grace says.
“And the weird thing is that I think there’s still something there between Jody and me, and I want to show her that I want to be there for her. So, if spending my night looking for Tom Ryder so I can get him back on set will help Jody, then I want to do it.”
“Wow,” Grace breathed out, looking at me in wonder. “You’re really serious about her?”
“Yeah, I really am,” I reply wistfully. I look over to Grace. “What about you? Do you have someone special in your life?”
“Not romantically, no, I put the ace in Grace,” Grace declares. Huh. That was something to digest. “But I’ve got Rocky, and he’s the bestest friend I could ever ask for, so I’m happy.”
“How did you two meet?” I ask. Grace stiffens at the question.
“That is a very, very long story that we’re not going to have enough time to unpack here in the car,” Grace informs. “Let’s just say for now we both ended up in the same place.”
“Well, now I’m really curious,” I say.
“I’m not explaining anything while you look like a highlighter,” Grace states. “I can’t take you seriously.”
“Touche,” I grumble.
We lapse into a comfortable silence for the next ten or so minutes until Grace starts to get fidgety and ends up picking up my leather jacket.
“What’s the Miami Vice Stunt Team jacket for? Was this a movie you did?” Grace inquires.
“Oh, it was the first show I ever did. I had to jump a boat through a ring of fire. I got so good at it I could do it with my hands tied behind my back.”
“Holy crudknuckles, seriously?!” Grace gapes. He then sits back in his seat and huffs. “Man, why are you so much cooler than me?”
“You think I’m cooler than you?” I repeat in bafflement. “Dude, you have a spaceship and an alien best friend. You’re definitely cooler.”
“Pfft. Plenty of people have spaceships,” Grace deflects.
“Seriously? Name one,” I challenge.
“Rocky,” Grace names triumphantly.
“He’s got a spaceship too?!”
“Well... had. It broke down, but it looked way cooler than mine.”
“How does one even get a spaceship? Is it something you can just buy in your world?”
“Oh, god no,” Grace shakes his head. “Getting that thing built was an absolute nightmare. We were in a huge time crunch, and my god... so many legal issues.”
“Did you help build it?” I ask, furrowing my brows.
“I did have a hand in the ship's creation, yes,” Grace nodded. “It’s part of the long, complicated story that I’ll tell you about later.”
“Probably a good thing ‘cus we’re here,” I say, pulling into a parking spot on the side of the road. I turn the engine off and look over to Grace. “So, obviously, you and Rocky need to stay in the car. Keep your head down and don’t talk to anyone.”
- GRACE -
“I still think this is a bad idea,” I frown, looking at Colt. “I mean, you’re meeting up with a drug dealer. At some point, this has to be not worth it.”
“If Ryder isn’t back on set soon, Jody’s entire movie is gonna fall through. I can’t let that happen. This is her big break. If it fails, she’s not gonna get another chance like this.”
I can see on his face how determined he is, and I know there’s nothing I can do to stop him from going into the club. But anxiety twists in my gut.
“What if you get attacked again?” I worry. Colt scoffs.
“What are the odds of that happening twice in one night?” Colt asks rhetorically, getting out of the car. Oh, come on man.
“More likely now that you’ve jinxed it.”
“Relax, Grace, I got this,” Colt reassures. I inhale deeply through my nose and then exhale loudly.
“Fine. Rocky and I will wait in the car. But I’m not happy about it.”
As I say this, the car shifts as Rocky gets out of the truck bed and crawls into the drivers side of the car.
“Oh, we’re gonna sit there? Sure,” Colt blinks.
“Want to be next to Grace. Grace hearing bad bad bad. Won’t hear Rocky through wall,” Rocky chirps. Rocky then notices the steering wheel and puts two of his hands on it. “What this, question?”
“Heh. It looks like he’s driving,” Colt grins. It was an amusing sight up until Rocky found the car horn.
Honk!
Rocky jumps in surprise.
“And that’s enough of that,” I declare, pulling Rocky’s hands off the steering wheel which was not an easy thing to do considering how strong he was.
“Did I hurt car, question?” Rocky asks worriedly.
“No,” I shake my head. “The car isn’t sentient. But don’t honk the horn again, okay?”
“Word before the horn, question?”
“Honk. To make a loud trumpety noise.”
“Understand. Eridians call that 🎶.”
“This is such a weird conversation to only hear one side of,” Colt regards. “I should go now.”
“Please be careful, Colt.”
“It’ll be fine. What could go wrong?” Colt says, closing the driver’s side of the door and giving me a thumbs up. I watch him walk away with a dropped jaw.
He just double-jinxed himself. The absolute madman.
Honk!
I jump in my seat and look over to see that Rocky has put his hands back on the wheel again.
“Don’t honk the horn,” I say. “You’re gonna draw attention to us.”
“But like noise,” Rocky chirps.
“I’m sure you’ll have an opportunity to honk all you want, but right now, we need to stay quiet.”
“Quiet is boring,” Rocky grumbles, dropping his hands from the wheel. “Car is much interesting. Is like dumb spaceship.”
“Well, you’re not wrong there,” I chuckle. It does feel that way after spending a decent chunk of my life on The Hail Mary. “Hey, can you sense Colt at all?”
We were parked about a block away from the club, which shouldn’t be too far for Rocky to “see”. Eridians had an amazing sense of hearing.
Rocky falls silent in a way where I know his focus is being pulled elsewhere, so I make sure to stay as quiet as possible, trying to limit my leaky space blob noises.
“Can sense,” Rocky finally says. “Colt is in big box-”
“Building,” I correct.
“Building is big box,” Rocky argues.
“Semantics,” I reply. “You were saying?”
“Ah. Yes. Before Grace interrupts me,” Rocky hums. “Colt is in big box full of disgusting, leaky space blobs. Colt is doing a very bad dance and has now latched onto someone's back for transport.”
“What the hell is he doing?”
“Is pretending to be dickhead actor. Does Grace not remember?”
“No, I remember,” I huff, pinching the bridge of my nose. I don’t know how Colt manages to do that without dying of embarrassment. I was barely comfortable in my own skin! How was Colt so easily able to pretend to be someone else?
It was a stupid question. He worked on film sets surrounded by actors- of course, he would know how to act. God, it was kinda strange to think about how in this world, my face was in movies. Well, not really because Colt was a stuntman who had to hide his face, but he was there regardless.
I was envious of how effortless he made things look- how it seemed bravery wasn’t required for him to do anything, it all just came naturally.
“Colt has made it to the drug dealer,” Rocky declares, doing celebratory jazz hands in the car seat.
“I don’t think that’s a sentence to celebrate,” I frown.
“Should celebrate. Colt make one new step in completing his mission. Colt find dickhead actor and impress mate with his tracking skills. One step closer.”
“He must really, really like her to go through all this effort,” I remark. I could never really see myself so invested in a romantic relationship that I would spend my night looking for someone I didn’t like just on the off chance I could impress my love interest. For Rocky, maybe. Depends on how nice he was to me that day.
“Colt has received drink from drug dealer,” Rocky updates me. I sit up straighter.
“The drug dealer gave him a drink? That’s a red flag if I’ve ever seen one. At least he’s not dumb enough to accept it.”
“Agree, agree agre– ohhh,” Rocky trails off in disappointment. “Your doppelganger is very dumb.”
My eyes widen.
“He didn’t seriously drink it, did he?” I gape.
“Took big sip,” Rocky shakes his carapace. “Much disappoint.”
“Oh my god, please don’t actually be laced with drugs,” I plead into my hands. “Please let this be a nice drug dealer who doesn’t spike drinks.”
“How know if human drugged, question?” Rocky asks.
“It depends on the drug,” I shrug. “Why? Is he doing something to indicate he’s under the influence?”
“He’s gone very floppy. Uh oh. Other humans grab him!” Rocky shrieks. “We must go and rescu- oh my...”
“What?! What is it?!”
“He is kicking the shit out of other humans.”
“Alright, come on, Rock,” I start, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the car door. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, but we need to do something.”
“Colt is very impressive fighter. Is more graceful than Grace,” Rocky clicks, crawling over the seats and tumbling out of my side of the car.
“Oh, god, what do we do?” I ask as I stand by the car. My brain won’t let me move until I have a plan. If Colt was in a fight, I’m not going to be of much use- I can’t fight back. I could call the cops, maybe? An ambulance? Someone competent?
“Think Colt has it handled,” Rocky tells me. “Oh! Drug dealer is making a run for it!”
As Rocky says this, in the distance I see a man jump from an awning and run into a taxi cab. Guess that’s the drug dealer. But where’s...
A neon flash of yellow catches my eye and I turn just in time to see Colt swan dive over the fence, roll down the hill, and gracefully manage to stand up and lean against the bus stop.
Rocky and I are across the road from him, and I can see from here that he seems to be having a very expressive conversation with... himself. No, yeah, he’s definitely high right now.
I go to cross the road to him when Colt suddenly shoots out into the road and right in front of–
“COLT!” I shout, breaking into a run.
The taxi hits him, and he flies up to the car's roof, then tumbles back down in front of it. Oh my god, did I just watch my doppelganger die?
Relief crashes over me as Colt immediately starts patting himself over to check for injuries and then gives himself a thumbs up. Flipping stuntman.
“Colt!” I call out, finally reaching him. Colt stands up and holds his pointer finger up at me in a ‘wait’ gesture.
“Not right now, other me,” Colt declares. He suddenly turns, swishing his long neon trench coat like some kinda long robed wizard, and speed walks up to the car he had just hit.
I don’t think Colt realises how much aura he was accumulating.
“There is something very, very, very wrong with your doppelganger, Grace,” Rocky says, sidling up to me.
“No kidding,” I answer. Colt opens the passenger seat of the taxi.
“WHERE’S RYDER?!” Colt screams at the drug dealer. The drug dealer is unintelligible to me from here, and I find myself stepping closer to hear in on their conversation.
“-I deliver drugs to him at the Pendleton Hotel sometimes, okay?”
“What room?” Colt slurs.
“Bro, I don’t know what room. You know, it changes. Just ask Kevin for the, for the fruit plate. He’ll give you the key!”
“Kevin?” Colt repeats.
“Kevin! K-E-V-I-N. For the-”
“I know Kevin!” Colt declares loudly.
“You know Kevin?” The drug dealer asks.
“I don’t know Kevin,” Colt tells the drug dealer. Okay, I’m thinking maybe I should step in? The drug dealer is rambling, and I slowly approach Colt.
“Hey, Colt, buddy,” I begin gently. “You good?”
“I need to find Kevin,” Colt informs me.
“Whoa, am I seeing double?” The drug dealer asks, looking between Colt and me.
“I don’t know, are you?” Colt snarks. “Because I am! How long is this supposed to last?!”
“How long is what supposed to last?”
“This!” Colt exclaims, gesturing to himself.
“Oh. When you stop seeing unicorns, then you’re good,” the drug dealer reassures. Colt turns and looks past me.
“Grace,” Colt says softly. “I’m seeing unicorns.”
“Okay,” I begin, gently putting my hand on Colt’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back to the car, and we’ll take you to the hospital, okay?”
“No!” Colt exclaims. “We need to find Kevin!”
Oh, that’s nice that he’s including me on this now. I exhale through my nose. How badly did I want to fight this? Because per Rocky’s observations, a high Colt was a lethal Colt.
“So, are you his twin or something?” The drug dealer asks, looking at me. I furrow my brows. What kinda question was that?
“What other explanation would there be for me to look like him?” I ask rhetorically. “What? You think I’m his doppelganger from another universe or something?”
“Shhhh!” Colt hushes me loudly. “You can’t tell him!”
“Thanks for this, by the way,” I say to the drug dealer while gesturing to Colt.
“Look, I was just paid to drug him, so there’s no hard feelings, okay?” The drug dealer says, raising his hands in surrender.
“Wait. Someone paid you to drug him? Him specifically?”
“Yeah!” The drug dealer nodded, as if we had come to an understanding of some kind.
“Who paid you?”
“Like I was telling your brother here, it was the guy who runs Ryder’s security!”
“Tom Ryder?”
“What other Ryder would I be talking about?!”
“Grace,” Colt whispers to me. “We need to find Kevin.”
I close my eyes and count to three.
“Should leave,” Rocky says to me. He had been standing on my right side out of view of the drug dealer.
“The hell was that noise? Did any of you hear that?”
“You heard nothing,” I say, closing the car door on him so I would no longer have to speak with him. I look at Colt. He’s an absolute dishevelled mess. He’s got a nasty-looking gash on his cheekbone and a giant blood stain on his coat. “Crap, you’re bleeding.”
“Hm?” Colt blinks. He looks down at his coat and notices the stain. “Oh! Would you look at that? Don’t worry, it’s not mine.”
As he says this, he shucks the trenchcoat off and leaves it in the middle of the road. I couldn’t take him at his word while he’s like this, so I need to reach my own conclusion. There’s no blood coming from his jacket underneath, so yeah, the trenchcoat blood wasn’t his. That was a relief.
“Come on,” I sigh, walking back to the truck. I was gonna have to drive. Oh, god, I haven’t driven in like... ever. I never even got my driver’s license.
“Are we going to find Kevin?” Colt asks.
“No,” I shake my head. “I’m going to take you back to your hotel room, and you’re going to go to bed.”
“But, what about Kevin?”
“Don’t worry, Colt,” I smile. “I’m going to find Kevin.”