Ding!
I glanced at my phone. Caleb's name lit the screen — not someone I'd expected to hear from tonight. We hadn't talked in a while, thanks to his last relationship, but lately he'd been on a mission to introduce me to the friends he'd made while we were out of touch.
A text popped up: Mr. Dingleberry.
Classic Caleb — never missed a chance to knock you down a peg.
"Call Caleb," I said aloud. The dial tone hummed a few beats before he picked up.
"Hey," he said, not even giving me the chance to speak. "You should come over."
"Maybe, Caleb. I'll think about it. Work was a mess today. And I told you to stop calling me that."
"I've got drinks…"
"…illseeyouinthirtyminutes."
Beep.
"Set a route to Caleb's."
I shoved my phone in my pocket, grabbed my jacket, and headed out. The city lights blurred past the car window as I followed the GPS toward his place. Part of me didn't really want to go — but the lure of alcohol and someone to complain to outweighed the quiet of my apartment.
Pulling into his driveway, I spotted a few extra cars parked beside his usual spot. None of the plates looked familiar.
"Caleb never mentioned having other people over."
A flicker of unease crept in. Maybe it was nothing — just friends of friends. I tugged at my sleeves and stepped out into the crisp evening air. Laughter and the faint clink of glasses spilled from inside, warm against the cold.
Knock knock knock.
"…ho…n…uys."
Muffled voices floated to the door. I waited, hands in my pockets. Even though Caleb and I had known each other since we were kids, barging into someone else's place still felt wrong.
The door cracked open, revealing a heavyset guy a few inches taller than me, the smell of alcohol clinging to his clothes.
"Keegan! How's it going?" Jared grinned wide, like we were old friends. A friend of Caleb's from way back — one I vaguely remembered — though we'd never been close enough to joke without a little awkwardness.
Over his shoulder, three people sat around a table caught mid-laugh over some silly-looking card game.
"You made it!"
Caleb practically launched out of the beanbag and bounded to the door. Shorter than me, tanned skin, short dark hair, and a full beard — a far cry from the kid I once knew.
I opened my arms for the hug — awkward, but familiar — the kind you give someone you haven't seen in a long time but still trust.
"You ready to start drinking?"
Before I could answer, Jared jabbed me in the ribs.
"You've got some catching up to do."
I followed them to the table, where the game still raged between Leah and Elana.
"I can't believe you all started without me," I said, feigning hurt.
Leah I'd met a few times before — one of Caleb's better friends. She had the kind of presence that made people lean in when she spoke, loud and warm in a way that made you feel like you'd been friends for years. Elana, though, was a mystery. Caleb met her barely a year ago, and now they were engaged. I'd wanted to object at first, but she seemed good for him. Steady. She was the one who told him to reach out — the reason I was even here tonight.
"Ahh, I lost!" Leah threw her cards down in a pout and reached for a shot glass on the counter. She tipped it back in one go, the clear liquor disappearing. "Ugh…" She groaned at the taste, sticking her tongue out like a kid.
"Do you have any clean glasses?" I asked as Caleb headed to the kitchen.
I'd never liked drinking after people — something Caleb and I both agreed on.
"Already prepared," he said, pulling a clear blue glass from under the counter. "What do you fancy today?" He swung open a cabinet crammed with bottles.
"Let's do whiskey tonight. Clear gives me bad hangovers," I said, pointing at the only corked bottle of flavored whiskey.
"Oh. I was saving that for a special occasion." Caleb's tone dipped, eyes flicking toward Elana.
"Don't worry about it. I'll just have whatever, then," I said, the hint obvious. He was saving it for her — I could read that much — and I wasn't about to push.
A few minutes later, we were crowded around the table, the air thick with warmth, laughter, and the faint sting of alcohol.
The whiskey — or whatever it was — was already working its way through me. I let out a sigh I hadn't realized I'd been holding and leaned back in my chair. These people weren't really my friends. Sure, I'd hung out with them before, but that didn't make us close. Their inside jokes and half-told stories brushed against something in me — not envy exactly, but a quiet longing to be part of it.
"It's good to see you again, Keegan," Leah said from my left, maybe sensing I felt out of place.
Leah was a bright young woman — not in the sense of intelligence, not that I'd know, but in the way she always wore a smile and threw herself into everything with an endearing, almost stubborn energy. Long golden hair, plain face, short in stature — yet somehow she always managed to stand out.
"You too," I said. "But where's Charlie? I almost never see you two apart."
"Oh, he's been feeling a little sick recently." Her smile faltered, but only for a moment. "His job's really putting a toll on him."
"I understand how that feels, trust me," I said, trying to offer something that might pass as comfort. "You know, I can probably put in a good word for a cushy position at the office."
"Really?" She beamed a smile at me, making me feel a little uncomfortable.
"Don't mention it," I said, looking away.
Elana caught my eyes, laughing politely while grabbing Caleb's shoulder. I'd never had a problem with her — in the weeks since I'd met her, she'd been nothing short of perfect for him. But something didn't feel right about her. Her medium-cut dark hair and bright eyes fit her objectively pretty face. When you look at her, she seems great — but with all the pieces together, something doesn't add up.
Something wasn't adding up — not at all. Caleb had dimmed the lights earlier to spare us from alcohol's light sensitivity, but now they blazed far too bright for the middle of the night. And it was getting worse. I had to squint just to see shapes in the room. Someone clung to me, though I couldn't make out who.
Then, all sound vanished — not faded, not muffled — simply gone, as if it had never existed. The scream that had accompanied the light collapsed into a sharp, high-pitched ring in my left ear, each note lancing through a splitting headache. I forced my eyes open, desperate to find the source, half-wondering if Caleb had left his gas stove on and blown the place sky-high.
But no. The light wasn't coming from something. It was coming from someone.
Elana was glowing. Blinding white radiance poured from her as Caleb gripped her shoulders, keeping her head from hitting the floor. Then, everything froze. My limbs locked. All the light in the room pulled inward, collapsing into her chest until it formed a small, perfect sphere. The sphere floated up and began to spill blinding liquid light in a slow, deliberate circle around the table, shrinking with each drop.
When it finished, the only glow left was the circle enclosing us. It began to rise, building into sheer walls of white that swallowed my vision. The brilliance closed in until it devoured everything.
And then—nothing.