@mystic-muses replied (+)
Atticus and Yashira’s phones both go off at the same time, causing them to look at each other in confusion before looking at what was sent. “Did you just-”
“-Get a message from Rowan?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
[Text from Atticus]: Are you okay? Did you die?
[Text from Atticus]: You’re not allowed to die!
Yashira snorts with laughter at Atticus’ message, causing him to glare at her, before sending a message of her own.
[Text from Yashira]: Where are you?
[Text from Yashira]: Don’t make me track your phone signal.
Atticus looks puzzled and looks at Yashira. “You can do that?”
“No,” she replies easily, sliding her phone into her pocket as she pulls Atticus up from the couch to help her look for his idiot, “but Zane can.”
Rowan is, in fact, not in any danger. He is reclined on the hood of his car parked at some abandoned rest stop. He wears nothing but his leather jacket and unbuttoned jeans and is in the process of uploading a video of himself lipsyncing along to some horror themed porno in which the female lead begs a dude to save her with his dick.
Rowan had found it online, entirely by accident - pornography staring big breasted women wasn’t exactly to Rowan’s taste - and he’d noticed how the poor sound quality made it sound like she begged Atty when really she was saying something like Andy.
Rowan, having very few operating brain cells when it come to his feelings for Atticus, thought it would be funny to tease Atticus with his own recording of the dialogue. At least, until Yashira also replied to the message.
Rowan’s eyes widen with horror. He’d sent it to group chat? Rowan hammers the cancel button, stopping the video from uploading just in time. It was stupid and shameless and definitely not something he wanted anyone other than Atticus seeing.
Rowan breathes a sigh of relief and sits up. Now what does he do? Half way through a prank and can’t use his punchline.
He looks around the rest stop he’s parked in. Gravel, overrun with weeds. A crumbling toilet block. A distance off, a fence gives way to farmland, but before that... Rowan jumps off his car and jogs over to a copse of blackberries. He picks a handful of the berries and smooshes them up in his hands. Rowan smears the dark red juice over his face and neck and returns to his car, slumping down on the ground just out of the driver’s door.
Rowan half closes his eyes and lolls his tongue, snapping a couple of selfies. He scrolls through them for the best “dead” look, then uploads that to the group chat.
Rowan sits back on the hood of his car and sucks blackberry juice off of his fingers.
