In The Spotlight

Leafy- This Is My Life Now

I wake up dazed, far before my alarm, which is typical for me nowadays. My head constantly feels like it's spinning, which can't possibly be good for my gameplay. I don't worry about it too hard.

There are a series of cryptic texts on my phone from 4. Asking me personal things, like my childhood fears. I don't have enough sense not to answer, so I do.

It's been one crazy ass week.

It's a wonder I got this far.

Monday ended with Eraser and Puffball saying goodbye. That was another tearful departure. I can't keep my friends with me, can I? They combined the leftovers, making 4 teams.

By Tuesday's end there were six of us. No more Gelatin. Bye bye Flower.

Then, Wednesday left us where we are now.

The final four.

"This is the place!" Firey is much too loud and it is much too early.

I nod at him in response. The café he chose is quaint, but doesn't seem like anything special. It is cute on the inside, and it reminds me a little of something from my childhood, but I can't quite recall what.

I order a black coffee and eggs on toast. He gets a fancy ass latte and a croissant. I think he would like Paris.

When we sit down, Firey's eyes defocus, like he's looking through me, not at me. "What's wrong?"

He snaps out of it and shakes his head like a dog trying to get some water off of him. "I guess I was just thinking."

"Oh. 'Bout what?"

The words seem to stab the inside of his mouth, based on the pained expression he displays. "I didn't want to ask, because it could come off kind of mean, and I've been there. Plus, like the time seems off, like I should've asked a couple weeks ago, but-"

I put a finger to my lip. "I won't be offended. Just go ahead."

He takes a breath and lets the words slip out all at once. "Why'd-you-quit-your-job?"

"I was miserable."

He cocks his head to the side. "I thought you liked being a lawyer."

I ponder this for a second. That is true. "It's less my job, more where I was."

"Like, in life, or geographically?"

"San Diego."

"Ah."

I smile as I think of the fantasy I've had since I was very little and crammed in an apartment with so many siblings. "I'd like a place where I can spread out. Preferably far from my parents. Equidistant from everywhere I could possibly need to be." I close my eyes and picture. "Somewhere with grass that isn't in a park." I nearly gasp at my own thoughts. "Somewhere it snows."

He laughs to himself and I have no idea why. An inside joke I'm not a part of, I guess. "The middle of nowhere," he says, as he grabs his coffee from the waitress.

This city is so big, but compared to everywhere else it's just a blip. "Why do we call it that? I mean, think about Earth. There's so much more Nowhere than there is Somewhere." I stare up at the hipster-y paper mache lighting fixtures. "It's really the middle of everywhere."

I look back at Firey. I notice a single tear on his face. It rolls down his cheek and into his coffee. I can't tell if I actually hear the bloop it makes when it hits the surface of the drink, but I certainly at least think that I do. Maybe I'm imagining things. It is very loud in here.

Right before I call him out for crying, I choose not to. I don't know why. It just feels wrong.

"Do you like where you live?" I ask.