“Come on, ya hunk of junk!” Marq murmured while trying to get the web page to load. I don’t think it’s his computer that’s the issue. I tried to pull up the website on my phone, and found it wouldn’t load for me either.
Tobias just leaned on one of the walls, watching with anticipation as we tried to get the website to load. He didn’t seemed bothered by the outcome of the wager either. The customers who stuck around and saw the soap opera between myself, Marq, and Tobias were rejuvenated, with some getting really excited about the possibility the store could expand.
One told me his name was Weeler, a young guy (at least I think he’s young, he’s about a foot shorter than me) who seems to be more interested in gaming than comics.
“If you win the bet, maybe they could put in isolated gaming tables!” he excitedly proclaimed.
I just gave him a chuckle and some non-committal words of assurance. Why would I know what Marq and Tobias would do with the store? Heck, that’s assuming my name didn’t drop out last minute.
I was sitting by myself when I got an email. It was from Fantastik Comics. My heart started pounding like crazy, before I saw the subject line.
“Website is down. Apologies for the delay.”
The body explained that so many people were visiting the site at that final moment it crashed the site. They had a backup, but it wouldn’t have the update information about the tournament finalists, and they didn’t want to confuse anyone. They would reach out to the finalists first, and the website would be back up once everything was confirmed.
“Hey, it looks like the website won’t be back up for a while. Seems like the tournament crashed it.” I let everyone know.
There’s a few groans from the customers, and Marq doesn’t even seem to hear me. He was still cursing his old computer and trying to refresh the website.
Before he left, Weeler came up to say goodbye.
“I gotta get home. It’s late. Will you be here tomorrow?” He seems really eager.
“Um, maybe. I got work but might head over after.” Assuming I’m still allowed, I think to myself.
“Great! I can show you how to play Wargames!” He quickly announces and runs to the door, turning back to give me an excited wave goodbye before disappearing into the night.
After some time, I decide to leave as well. I walk over to Marq and let him know I got work in the morning. He seems a little disappointed, but understands and wishes me a good night. He pulls out a slip of paper and writes some numbers on it.
“Send me a text, and I’ll call you tomorrow after we confirm you made it to the tournament! We’ll celebrate this weekend or something!”
I snatch the slip of paper so quickly, you’d have barely known it was there. I fat finger the wrong number twice, but finally enter it into my phone and send him a quick ‘This is Jules’ message. I save the contact as “Marq (Pretty Boy)”.
He checks his phone and confirms he has it and decides to call it a night, shooing everyone else out so he could clean up. I look around at the customers leaving and notice I don’t see Tobias anywhere. He must have left just before I did, likely not wanting to wait for the tournament announcement either.
I start walking into the night and pull out my phone as it vibrates. My heart stops when I see the subject line:
“Entrant #63 – BeJuled, enclosed are documents for the Fantastik Comic Artist Tournament”
I did it. I didn’t just make it into the tournament, but I actually got one place higher than I was before everything cut off.
I did it!!
I let out a loud cheer into the quiet night and immediately become self-conscious about the possibility people could see or hear me when no one else is around. Ugh. Dumb. Don’t do that again Jules.
“I’m guessing that means you passed?”
I quickly turn around, scared out of my gourd, but quickly recognize the voice and become less scared for my physical well-being and a little more scared for my mental health.
Tobias has seemingly followed me.
“I would appreciate it if you’d confirm, I happen to have investment money on the line.” He smirks at me as the wind blows his hair about. He doesn’t seem to be bothering with it this time, letting it run wild.
It makes him look a little unhinged, slightly crazed even. Do I tell him? What if he gets upset and hurts me?
He takes a few steps closer as I try to will my feet to move. I can’t. They won’t. I’m dead.
He gets in real close and slowly reaches up for my phone. I don’t even try to stop him as my body seems to not be responding to anything I tell it to do.
He looks over the email I had pulled up.
“Look at that! #63. Not even at the bottom of the list.” He types a few things into my phone, my mind blanking on what it could possibly be, before he slides it back into my hand.
His hand seems to linger just for a moment before releasing my phone.
I quickly put it back in my pocket and realize I can smell him. It’s like cedar wood or the breeze at the ocean. It’s a refined smell, not overpowering, but not unnoticeable.
I finally get the nerve to look up at his face and I am not sure what I see there. The admiration expression from before? No that’s not it. It’s something different. Something almost familiar…
He reaches up, putting his finger under my chin as he pulls my face closer to his and closes his eyes…
I scream and dash home so quickly, I’m back in my room before I have a chance to process any of what just happened.
What in the name of the goddess just happened?!
