@ycungblccd
the entirety of the day, rowan’s been trying to convince herself that sam isn’t real. it helps when researching him has more dead ends than fingers on her hands. she supposes she may have to make a trip to the library instead given that sam died in the 90s, before articles on the internet were popular. to narrow down the search, she’s going to have to ask him more questions about his life before. like, where the hell he died, maybe. hopefully the poor guy can remember. in the meantime, she’s made an effort to find some things he might have an interest in. including, but not limited to, some david bowie songs she’s downloaded on spotify for him. “knock, knock,” she says as she cracks the door open, realizing that it’s pretty unnecessary to announce her arrival when she’s sure her lockpicking made enough noise to do that for her. “i’m come bearing gifts... and fast food.” taking a seat on the staircase, rowan realizes it’s uncharacteristically quiet this time around. shit, maybe sam isn’t real. turning on her phone’s flashlight, rowan shines it around until she finally spots him. “oh! thank god,” she grins, scooting over so he can sit next to her. “i was starting to worry you were just a hallucination.”













