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To convince yourself to make do with the clothes in your closet and the hair products on your counter, you tell yourself that Jason is too good of a guy to cancel on at the last minute. The least you can do is go and make an absolute fool of yourself so he has a good time. And you know you’re right, so despite the anxiety, you continue.

When six-thirty rolls around, you’re completely ready and pacing back and forth in your living room. You’re debating taking a shot of the cheap liquor an old school friend gifted you before your move when you hear a knock at the door. You practically sprint to the door, eager to rid yourself of any lingering anticipation—it’s growing painful.

“Hi,” you’re sure the nerves are all over your face, but you smile anyway. “You’re early.”

“Couldn’t help myself. Are you ready, or do you want me to wait out here while you finish?”

“I’m good. Let’s go.”

“It’s a pretty short walk from here. Roy and I used to walk over right before closing and piss the line cooks off…”

By the time you approach the restaurant, Jason holding the door for you as you enter, whatever nerves you had earlier seem to have faded away. He’s so warm, you find it hard to be anxious in his presence. As the door shuts behind you, you’re greeted with the smiling face of a woman who looks about in her seventies, standing behind the host stand.

“Jason! It’s so good to see you again!” The woman rushes around to hug Jason, pecking each of his cheeks to greet him. “It’s been so long! Where’s your brother? Who’s this?”

Jason chuckles at the twenty questions. “He’s in town, I’ll tell him to drop by. This is my date.” He introduced the two of you, you learn her name is Mags, and she tells you she’s been feeding Jason since he was just a kid. It makes his face go red, and you can’t help the wave of emotion that rises in your chest. When Jason removes his gaze from the ground to meet your eyes, you give him a reassuring smile. When he returns it, he seems at ease.

Mags waves over one of the younger hosts to walk you to your table, a nice booth situated in the back of the restaurant. It’s a very private, dimly lit area, lit mostly by candlelight. The red booths seem to glow in the flickering light as you scoot into one, sitting across from Jason.

“I’ll have Caleb out to take your order in a minute. You want your usual?” She asks, directed at Jason before both of their attention turns to you.

“Do you like red wine? We could do champagne if you want.” Jason’s words are soft and casual, and he’s got a confident look on his face. You could get lost in those eyes without any effort, but then you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. Jason’s hand, resting on top of the table, fidgeting. It’s such a stark contrast to the confidence he’s trying to play that you can’t help but smile at him.

“Red wine is perfect.” You turn your attention to the hostess. “Thank you.”

“I guess you’ve gathered I’m a regular here,” Jason starts, still unaware of his thumb tapping away at the tabletop. “I thought it’d be a good way to get to know me. I’m not always great with words.”

You grin. You can’t help it, it feels like it crawls from the back of your throat and claws its way onto your face. “I appreciate you bringing me into such an important part of your life. And I don’t always need words, I can read in between the lines.” He gives you a small smile and opens his mouth to speak before he’s interrupted by your server.

“I am so sorry for the wait.” He sets down two wine glasses, pops the cork on the wine bottle, and serves you both. Caleb ends up being a delight, keeping you laughing as you and Jason decide what to order. You think they know each other well, with how comfortable they seem around one another. It makes you wonder just how much time Jason has spent here.

By the time Caleb leaves to put your order in, your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and you can spot a rosy tint on Jason’s cheeks as he recovers from laughter. He was right about bringing you here, you’re sure of it. Not that the man has ever been standoffish to you, but seeing him in his element is helping you see a new side of him. And this is only the beginning of the date.

The two of you spend some time shooting silly questions back and forth: favorite color, movie, music genre. He’s always very interested in your answers and always asks follow-up questions. The more the two of you spoke, the more you could see him truly relax. Maybe the wine had something to do with it, but twenty minutes into your wait, he’d stopped fidgeting completely.

The conversation comes to a comfortable lull, and you stop to watch him for a moment. You’re beginning to think he’s had a little more to drink than you thought with the way his eyes are sparkling in the candlelight. But you can’t be mad, because it makes him look that much more inviting.

“You’re staring.” He says with a chuckle. You feel your face go hot, an embarrassed smile overtaking your face.

“Sorry. Honestly, I can’t help it sometimes.” You give a shaky laugh that he returns in kind, and you’re so warm you think you have a fever, so you take a sip of wine to help your racing pulse.

“Never apologize. It just means you can’t tell that I’m staring back.” His laugh turns to a smirk, and you can’t help the shy smile on your face as you avert your eyes.

“If I’m being super honest, I can’t believe you wanted to go on a date with me.” You laugh, half joking, and while the smile stays on his face, his eyes narrow.

“Oh, don’t do that.”

“What do you mean?” The tone of his voice makes your heart drop to your stomach, and you’re worried you finally said the wrong thing.

“You’re gorgeous. You’re allowed to be gorgeous. I’m not One Direction; you not knowing you’re beautiful doesn’t make you beautiful to me.” His words initially hit your ears as casual, and aloof, but then you see the look on his face. You realize he’s just trying to tease you a little, and you relax a little.

“I… I’m sorry, did you just invoke One Direction to rid me of my insecurities?” You ask, unable to keep a little chuckle out of your voice.

“Absolutely. Did it work? If not, I learned Little Things on the guitar—”

“Oh my god. Please, no.” You’re laughing into your hands, stomach aching at the amount of laughter you’re doing. You hear Jason laughing along with you, which makes you want to laugh even more.

“Is everything okay?” Caleb asks, and you finally pull your face out of your hands to see a worried look on the man’s face. He’s carrying two plates of food that you have to admit look absolutely divine.

Jason, mid-laughter, reassures him, “Yeah, man. Wow, looks delicious. Tell Antonio I said thanks.”

“Of course, Jason. He always expects me to relay your compliments. He likes them more than tips.” Caleb jokes as he sets the pasta in front of both of you. Some special Jason swore was incredible, so you wanted to try it. “If you need anything, I’ll be around.”

“Thanks, Caleb.” “Thank you!”

You and Jason both speak at the same time, eyes meeting afterward and giggling at each other. As Caleb leaves, the conversation dies down as you both enjoy your pasta. You were right to trust Jason because the dish is delicious.

By the time you’re done, you’re so full you can hardly breathe. Jason is chatting with Caleb as he picks up your plates, slipping him a credit card before he leaves again.

“We have two options,” Jason starts. “Get the dessert menu here, or we can go to a spot I know. They’ve got ice cream, frozen yogurt, even fried cheesecake on a stick.”

“Oh, well, that’s the obvious answer then, isn’t it?”

So the two of you head out on foot to this spot Jason has warned you is a bit of a hole in the wall, but he assures you it has fantastic ice cream. You don’t care where you go, as long as it’s with him. As you walk, he’s got his arm wrapped around you, letting you huddle into his warmth. You were right about him becoming exponentially more comfortable with you as the night progressed, and he even stopped drinking well before you did. He was blooming like a flower right before your eyes; opening up and showing you his beauty under the stars.

This is the moment you’re convinced that soulmates exist and that he’s yours.

He opens the door to the ice cream shop for you, ushering you in to escape from the wind that picked up. You’re still full from dinner, but you’d do anything to extend the date, even eat ice cream on a full stomach.

“What would you like, sweetheart?”

“Do you wanna split a milkshake maybe?”

“I’d love to. What are you feeling? Cookies and cream? Strawberry?”

“Definitely strawberry.”

And so there you sit, in the corner of a dingy dessert shop, sipping on a strawberry milkshake, having a light conversation with the most kind, intelligent, handsome man you’ve come across in months. Years, honestly. You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot, like someone’s going to come out at any point and reveal you’ve been punked.

The feeling continues as he walks you back to your place. He’s back to wrapping you up in his arms, and this time you’re fighting butterflies as you try not to step on his toes. You inevitably do, and apologize profusely, but he just laughs. Pressed against his chest, you can feel the vibration of it, and you feel both put at ease and restless.

Jason is quick to grab you from your reverie, though, his arms tightening around you and pulling you into the nearest alleyway.

“What are you—”

“Shh.” He whispers, making sure you’re hidden behind the wall before leaning over for a peek. He stares for a moment, so you consider it safe enough to do the same. Before he can stop you, you see a group of men in owl masks, kicking at something on the ground. There must be six or seven of them crowded around this thing, so there’s no way for you to get a good look at it to know what it is.

When you hear a groan, you realize what’s going on, and you’re worried you’re going to be tasting that strawberry shake again.

“Jason,” you whisper, “we have to do something.” He nods, reaching into his pocket and firing off a quick text before returning his attention to you.

“Dick will call the cops. In the meantime, we need to get you home.”

“But—”

“There’s nothing we can do, and I’m not putting you in danger. Let’s go. Please?”

“He’ll call the cops? You promise?”

“I gave him the exact location, they should be here any minute. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.”

“Okay. Yeah, I know. But how are we going to get around them?”

“I know a shortcut. C’mon, sweetheart.” He grabs your hand, pulling you further into the alley. After a few minutes of silently following behind him, being pulled along by the hand, you speak.

“Jason, who were those guys? I mean, I know about people like Joker and Scarecrow, but the records on these owl people are practically nonexistent. And from what I can tell, they’re behind like… all of the disappearances recently.”

Jason stops in his tracks, looking for something in your face but saying nothing. You feel exposed, laid open; something about his eyes tells you that he’s not just looking, he’s seeing.

“They’re not… As dangerous as Joker and Scarecrow are, the Court is a different breed. Just trust me when I say you need to stay far away from them.” He sighs, grabbing your hand again and pulling you along the winding path between buildings.

“The… Court? Jason, could you just explain a little? I can’t find anything on these guys, but it seems like they’re everywhere.” You’re beginning to get frustrated. Not really with him, but with the entire situation. You know they’re dangerous, but you’d argue it’s more dangerous for you to not know anything about the enemy.

“I probably know as much as you do.” He shrugs. You’re watching his back intently, and something about his posture leaves you unconvinced; like he’s trying a little too hard to be casual. “From the reports I’ve seen, it looks like they’ve been committing a lot of kidnappings recently. Other than that, though, I only know that anyone that has ever gone sniffing around there hasn’t come back.”

That leaves you silent, and Jason sighs again, slowing down a bit to walk in step with you. “Look, I know it’s your major and your passion, I just… I don’t want something happening to you. Not ever, but especially not before you can start doing some really good work.”

He stops you at the edge of the alley, your apartment building just across the way. You’re pleased to not hear any sounds of someone getting the shit kicked out of them. “I know you’re going to make a difference in Gotham, and I hope you don’t see this as me discouraging you from your dream. I just want you safe. This city… it’s not what you’re used to.”

You shake your head, knowing that even though he’s keeping something from you, he has valid reasons to do so. It’s only your first date, after all. And it’s not like you aren’t keeping things from him. “No, no, I appreciate it. Really. It’s nice having someone who knows the city looking out for me.” And you mean every word as you throw yourself into him in a hug.

Will you take his advice? Well, that’s another story.

Jason walks you to the front door of your building after scanning the street, no owls in sight. Before you scan your badge, he speaks. “When can I see you again?”

You grin, another one of those you just can’t help even if you wanted to. “Whenever you want.”

His eyebrows raise and he lets out a huff of a laugh. He steps closer, barely a foot away from you now. You feel like you can’t catch your breath, the butterflies in your stomach are making a great escape through your throat.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” He asks, his voice low as his eyes trace your face.

“Sounds perfect.” All you can do is smile. Your cheeks are beginning to ache.

“Could I… Is it okay if I kiss you?” His voice is quiet, soft like his hands as he puts a gentle hand on your cheek.

“It’s more than okay, Jason.” At your permission, he leans down to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. It’s like being struck by lightning, a warmth courses from his lips to your toes, and you wonder if you’re vibrating.

When he pulls away, he’s all smiles, and you have a feeling you’re both on the same page. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

As he turns to leave, you stop him, “Wait, text me and let me know you made it home safe. It’s late; I worry.”

“Will do, sweetheart. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” You open the door to your building and watch him leave through the shutting door. You sigh, unable to rid yourself of the wide grin plastered on your face, and push the elevator button, not bothering with the stairs tonight. Consider it a reward.

You even do a little happy dance, taking comfort in the fact that you would be able to see the redhead coming before he could spot you.

Back in your apartment, you opt to immediately change into comfortable clothes before anything else. Despite it being on the later side, you still have some nervous energy you can’t get rid of, so you open your laptop to see if you can find anything good.

It’s not your fault the Gotham Gazette’s website was featuring a story on the disappearances. But this time, your heart sank when you read the title.

SURVIVOR CRYSTAL JORDAN TELLS ALL ABOUT EXPERIENCE WITH KIDNAPPING CULT

It had taken several hours straight of research and ignoring your homework to get to where you are now. You’d nailed down every article written about each of the attacks. Some were more thorough than others, but there was a throughline in each that you were able to pin down.

No matter the article, each eyewitness said there was at least a group of three people kidnapping the one person. That’s pretty standard, you assume. But there is something you find that’s a bit less standard.

Of the fourteen articles you found, only three mentioned what the kidnappers were wearing. And because of what was described, you’re not so sure how much weight to put into it, as it sounded a bit ridiculous.

These witnesses described the kidnappers as wearing owl masks.

Which, at first, you thought was a bit fucking absurd. Owls? But when you thought about it for more than thirty seconds, you remembered that’s probably the least absurd thing you’ve seen around Gotham. With that thought in mind, you began a long deep dive into Google to find out more about the owl masks.

And unfortunately for you, owl masks gotham city wasn’t exactly yielding the results you were looking for. At one point in your research, you had to get another cup of coffee and pace around your apartment to keep from blowing a gasket.

So, here you are, several hours later, reading through old Gotham town records trying to find some mention of owl masks. You’d combed to the 1800s before you found anything you felt was remotely relevant.

The Court of Owls.

Huh. In your (limited) research into Gotham, you hadn’t heard of them before. A few searches into academic databases didn’t yield anything worth wasting time over. When you put it into Google, the only thing you found worthwhile was a book available at Gotham City Library.

Well, time to get a library card.

As you’re packing up a tote bag to go, you wonder if this is just a wild goose chase. If those witnesses were traumatized, they saw an owl nearby, and their brains created a weird connection. But now the issue is you need to know. That little voice in the back of your head isn’t letting this one go, and you can’t lie and say you don’t want to know what the hell is going on around here.

As you’re getting your shoes on, you hear your phone ding.

Tim: Hey, are you free to come over and work on the project later?

You: Yes! I have a couple errands to run, I can text you when I’m done

Tim: Sounds great.

//

The building in front of you looked more like an old church than a library. You idly wonder if it’s considered a landmark as you heave open one of the heavy double doors and enter the ornate space. As you approach the front desk, you’re met with an older woman in bright red glasses with a smile on her face. You think that this is the first time you’ve seen some southern hospitality up here.

“Hi, dear. What can I do for you?”

“Hi. Just a library card.”

It’s a quick, easy process. You hand over your ID, and a few moments later, she hands it back along with a fresh library card. You feel like an official Gothamite as you look it over. Everything feels so… official now. Set in stone. You really live here now.

“Anything else I can do for you?” She asks, and as much as you hate asking for anything, this place is way too large for you to find anything you’re looking for in a reasonable amount of time.

“Actually, I’m looking for a book, but I’m not sure where I’d find it. It’s, um,” you open your phone to make sure you get the name right. “Gotham Secret Societies Volume Two.”

You watch as her face contorts into confusion as she thinks for a moment before she nods. “We actually have an entire Gotham History section, I’m sure it’s in there. Follow me.”

She makes her way around the desk and leads you around the opulent, labyrinthian hallways. You wonder if you’ll be able to make it out of here without a guide. It’s hard to pay attention to the route when you’re distracted by stained glass windows and antique light fixtures.

She stops after entering a doorless entryway to a small room packed wall to wall with bookshelves.

“If we have any book related to Gotham, it’ll be here. Can I do anything else for you?”

You shake your head. “That’s it. Thank you so much.”

You take a deep breath before starting at the left-hand wall. You’ve got quite a bit to look through, but your spirits lift when you realize the books are in alphabetical order. Upon that realization, it doesn’t take you long to get where you need to be. You skip a few bookshelves to get to the Gs, and you’re able to find it pretty quickly after that.

As you pull it from the shelf, you flip it around to give it a once-over. It’s clearly pretty old, but still in good shape for a library book. You decide to flip open to the table of contents to see what’s in store for you, when you hear your name being stage whispered from behind you. Your head snaps up, and you look around to find the source of the sound.

There, at the entryway, you see Jason with two books in one of his hands. He’s got a grin on his face, and he waves slightly before he makes his way over to you. “Hey. Fancy running into you here. What d’you have there?”

Your face goes warm before you respond. “Hi. Good to see you. It’s, um, for a research project.” You flash him the cover, and he chuckles.

“Volume two, huh? Sounds riveting. Hey, I know a couple in the free masons if you need a source.”

Your brow quirks. Money, connections—what does this family not have? “I’m not sure if I do, but I’ll definitely let you know.” You pause, looking down and trying to figure out what books are in his hand. “What’d you get? I figured you had all the books you wanted at home.”

Jason laughed, a haughty sound that you couldn’t help but smile at. “I wish. I got the demon an anime book, and I got this for me.” He turns the book around, giving you a good look at the cover of Brave New World.

“You ever read anything from this century?”

A look of mock offense takes over Jason’s face as he struggles to stifle his smile. “You little—I’m not letting you get away with that.”

“What are you gonna do? Bore me to death by reading me one of your books?”

“Oh, that’s it, get over here.”

You let out a quiet yelp before bolting to the other side of the room. You weave in between bookshelves, hoping to lose him. As you look back to see if you can spot him, you run into something solid. You can’t help the surprised sound that leaves your mouth, and you drop the book and your phone to the ground.

“Gotcha.” Jason’s grinning as he leans down to grab your stuff. When he stands to his full height to hand them to you, he speaks again. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy, but your phone keeps vibrating.”

You smile. “Thanks.”

Tim: What’s up?

You: All done. I can head your way now

Tim: Need me to send a car?

You: Don’t worry about it

You look up at Jason, an attempt at puppy dog eyes covering your expression. He rolls his eyes expectantly. “Can I get a ride?”

“Of course, sweetheart. You’re lucky I didn’t take the bike today. Follow me.”

//

When you arrive at the manor, Jason opens the car door for you before you even realize he has gotten out. With a shy smile, you tell him thank you. He gives you a shy smile in return. Your face heats up, and you look at your shoes.

He opens the front door for you, and there stands Tim, an amused expression on his face.

“I guess that’s why you didn’t need a car.” He says. You give him an apologetic smile and he shakes his head. “Come on, let’s go finish this thing.” Tim turns around, expecting you to follow. You do, only you turn around to get one last look at Jason. He’s staring right back at you, a small smile on his face the whole time. You finally have to look away when you get to the stairs.

As you stare at Tim’s back, following him to the library, you can’t help but think about how kind Jason has been to you. He’s sweet, a quality you’re not used to seeing in men. Of course, you’ve only really spoken to him at surface level, but you really do like him so far. And his family seems to adore him, and that says a lot, too, you think. Despite how… chaotic they may seem on the outside, you can tell they all have a strong bond that’s very important to them. Seeing all fifty (exaggeration, you’re aware, but sometimes it feels like it) family members each regard Jason with the same reverence makes it easy to feel the same way about him.

You’re literally snapped out of your reverie by Tim’s hand in your face, as you’ve come to a full stop in front of the table in the library. Your face feels warm as you unload your bag and plop into a chair. Tim chuckles.

“What?” You ask, confused by his prying eyes as you open your laptop.

“Oh, come on. You showed up here with Jason and you’re just not gonna tell me what happened?” His eyes are alight with excitement. You hate to burst his bubble. (And your own.)

“It wasn’t like that. We ran into each other at the library and I asked him for a ride.” You tell him, loading up the project document on your laptop. He rolls his eyes.

“But you want it to be like that, right?”

“I mean…” You can feel your face go hot. “How could I not?” You put your elbows on the table and bury your face in your hands. Muffled, you say, “can we change the subject now?”

“Yeah, let’s finish this so you can go hang out with Jason more.”

You groan, Tim chuckles. After a brief pause, he speaks again.

“Seriously, though?” He says, and you sober up out of your embarrassment for a moment to pay attention. “He’s a great person, and he doesn’t… take interest in other people that often. I just think, whatever it is, it’d be good for the both of you.”

It was finally about 7 p.m. when the project came to a close and you were both satisfied with the finished product. It was exhausting, a lot of back and forth and finding sources for everything, but you were glad to have it completed so you could dedicate your time to other projects.

Like those fucking owls. As much as you’ve tried to stay focused while working on this project with Tim, there’s a part of your brain just itching to go home and crack open this book. This was the only tangible mention of The Court of Owls, and you were determined to follow this trail. Even if it leads to a dead end.

“You staying for dinner?” Tim asks, breaking you from your (obsessive) thoughts. You let out a sigh before you could control it—as great as dinner at the manor would be, you also neglected all your other schoolwork today.

“As much as I’d love to, I’ve got four billion assignments due by Sunday, and if I don’t start making a dent in them now, they’ll never get finished.”

Tim shakes his head, waving off your apologetic tone. “I get it. It’s like they purposely overload us this time of year. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

After loading your stuff back into your tote, you follow Tim out of the library and down the stairs. You perk up when you hear Jason’s voice in the foyer. Tim notices, ever the watchful eye, and you try to ignore the knowing smirk on his face by focusing on Jason’s voice.

“…think they’d follow us the whole—hey sweetheart. You staying for dinner?” Jason’s attention so quickly goes from his conversation with Alfred to you that you worry he’s given himself whiplash. The amused smile on Alfred’s face tells you he doesn’t mind.

“Hi to you too,” Tim says, poking Jason in the shoulder as he walks past him, and Jason retaliates by slapping him upside the head.

“I see you all the time.” The sour look on Jason’s face leaves immediately as he turns his attention back to you. “Dinner? It’s homemade pizza.”

You groan. “You’re making this so hard for me, I really need to go home.”

Alfred chimes in this time, “You’re sure we can’t convince you?”

With a sigh, you say, “Unfortunately, no. Believe me, if I had the time, I’d much prefer to be here.”

“At least let me drive you then,” Jason says, already fishing around in his pocket for his keys. You begin to shake your head, already writing that idea off.

“No, you don’t have to—”

“I insist, come on.” You give him a look, and he gives you one back, to the point where you both have a mini standoff to see who will break first. It still doesn’t look like you’re going to budge, so he says, “Just let me do this for you. Please?”

And fuck, how can you say no to that?

You just nod and follow his cues to say goodbye to Tim and Alfred. You ignore the sly smile on Tim’s face as you give them your goodbyes. You and Jason make your way to the garage, and get into the same flashy red sports car he put you in at the library. When you buckle in, he asks for your address, and you easily give it to him.

“Oh, Roy’s place. Cool.” He says as he begins pulling out of the never-ending driveway.

“Y’know, Tim said the same thing, but I’ve still yet to meet this Roy.”

“I’ll introduce you, don’t worry. Oh, hey, did you guys finish that project?”

You fall into easy conversation with him about school work and weather and just about anything else that pops into your mind. It just flows with him, you think, as you can’t help but stare at him while his attention is on the road. He’s so easy to talk to that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to your apartment building until he parallel parks the car and absolutely books it to make sure you don’t have to open your own door.

It’s sweet, and you can’t help your face heating up as you give him a small thank you. He shuts the car door behind you and walks with you to the door of your building.

“Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it.” You smile up at him, unable to contain it even if you wanted to.

“It’s no problem, really, I wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He pauses, taking a deep breath and looking at his feet before returning to look in your eyes. “I also wanted to ask if you would maybe… want to go to dinner tomorrow night? There’s this Italian place that’s really good, but if you—”

“I’d love to go to dinner with you, Jason.” You’re grinning, one of those cheek-splitting smiles you just can’t help. He smiles back, and the look in his eye gives you butterflies. Everything about him gives you butterflies.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, if that works?”

“That’s perfect.”

His smile, if possible, grows even wider. “Perfect.”

“Goodnight, Jason.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You turn to scan your key, and he’s there to open the door for you. As it shuts, you give him a wave goodbye. He returns it as he walks backward toward his car, a matching grin on his face.

And when he finally can’t see you anymore, you break out into a happy dance. Dance might be a generous word for it, as you were far too excited to put any thought into what you were doing. You’re too busy jumping up and down to notice the elevator beeping to signal its arrival, or the man hopping off the elevator and stopping in the hallway to watch you with an amused look on his face.

“You good?”

You jump, startled, turning to face the voice. With his red hair, trucker hat, and tank top combo, he reminds you of the kind of men you saw back home. The familiarity puts you at ease. “Hi. Very good. Sorry.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Good.”