The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(103)

Someone’s cooking on this floor has my stomach growling. I don’t even know what it is.

“That smells amazing,” I say.

“For real.”

“What’s the first thing you’re going to eat after the surgery?” I ask.

“Isn’t that kind of torturous to talk about?”

“It’ll be over soon anyway,” I say with a lightness in my voice.

“You choose for me,” Orion says.

It’s hard to think because at this point I would eat this dirty banister or a human foot. “You got to have some linguini, of course.”

“No doubt, no doubt.”

“Mashed potatoes drowned in gravy. Roasted carrots. Steamed spinach. Macaroni and cheese that’s baked to the point it’s burnt.”

“I might have to break that up over a couple meals.”

Third landing, third kiss.

Someone is arguing upstairs. That noise problem won’t be mine for much longer. I’m relieved that I did all my recording back in Orion’s so I won’t have that in the background, even if loud neighbors are a classic New York staple.

“I’m excited to see these pictures,” I say.

“Which ones are you most hyped to see?” Orion asks.

A different memory rises as I go up each step.

Outside the pawnshop.

My first time buying a copy of the New York Times before realizing my connection to the cover shot of Joaquin Rosa on the phone.

Up on the High Line with Orion.

The memorial site.

The Brooklyn Bridge.

Everything on the train where we put on a show for the ages.

Kissing Orion in Times Square.

They’re all winners.

“The High Line,” I decide at the top of the stairs, right as I hear a clattering from above that I can’t make out and don’t concern myself with because I’m happy in this memory. “It’s our first photo together. I want to see how it came out.”

“I bet you look amazing, and I look like shit.”

Fourth landing, fourth kiss.

“I’m sure you look great too.”

“I said amazing! Once again, in trying to compliment me, you downgrade me.”

I laugh. “I’m sorry, my amazing boyfriend! You are amazing and I’m sure you look amazing and everything about you is amazing and I’m not amazing enough for you! Are we amazing again?”

“Yeah, sure, sure, sure, we’re amazing again, my great boyfriend.”

“I could kick you down these stairs,” I say, halfway up the fifth flight.

“I’ll just land on my pillow. But for real, I wouldn’t mind the break. You chose poorly moving into a sixth-floor walk-up.”

“I was told there’d be an elevator.”

“If you knew me sooner I could’ve checked that shit out for you.”

“Add that to the list of why I wish I could time-travel.”

Fifth floor, fifth kiss.

“This moment isn’t so bad,” Orion says.

This one isn’t.





Frankie Dario


6:40 p.m.

Frankie is going to kill Rolando.

He considers grabbing the gun from his closet, but a bullet is too merciful. He wants to personally beat Rolando to death. There are any number of ways to do that: the leg of the chair that just popped off as it crashed into the TV’s entertainment center, the TV itself, the boots by the door, the defrosted ham Gloria was supposed to cook for dinner, a kitchen knife, some good strikes with the ring of keys. His fists will do the trick just fine too.

“Rolando, get out here!”

“What are you doing?” Gloria asks.

Frankie points his finger at his wife—at the woman who no longer wants to be his wife. “You brought this man into my house, so let’s see how much of a man he is.” The door opens, and Rolando steps out. Paz tries following him, but Rolando nudges him back into his room. Rolando turns to Gloria.

“Don’t look at my wife!”

“You need to calm down,” Rolando says.

“You don’t make the rules in my house!”

“We’re all happy to leave your house.”

Frankie begins closing the space between himself and Rolando. “You can get the fuck out of my house, but you’re not leaving with my family!”

“I am not your property,” Gloria says, getting in between the two men.

Frankie shoves Gloria into Rolando’s arms. “Then you can both get out of here! But Paz isn’t going anywhere!”

He has no interest in being a single father, but he’ll be damned if another man raises his son.

“Where I go, Pazito goes!” Gloria shouts, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Over my dead body!” Frankie says.

He takes his first swing.





Valentino


6:41 p.m.

Orion holds his chest and takes a deep breath. “How’s your heart doing because mine—”

The shouting becomes clearer at the top of the sixth floor. It’s Frankie.

“You can get the fuck out of my house, but you’re not leaving with my family!”

A woman says something, maybe about property?