The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(53)

I’m returning to the bathroom to get dressed when I slip on a puddle of water and slam right down on my back.

The fall knocks the breath out of me, but another follows.

I’m not dead.

Orion shouts my name, probably thinking I am dead.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m alive.”

“Great start. But are you okay?”

I have a headache, but I’m suddenly self-conscious that I’m only wearing a towel. In all my modeling gigs I’ve been shirtless once but never had to be in my underwear. Which means this is the most exposed I’ve been in front of another boy. I sit up, my abs squeezing like I’m beginning a crunch, and my towel is thankfully concealing my business.

“You going to lie down there all day?” Orion asks.

“Maybe. It’s my End Day, I’ll do what I want,” I say.

“Respect.” Orion gets down on the floor with me, side by side like we’re back in bed. “How are you feeling?”

The wood planks are cold on my back, but it’s becoming soothing the longer I’m down here. “I should be fine. My head hurt more last night.”

“Good to know. How about with everything else?”

“You mean my End Day?”

“Yeah.”

“This morning has been hard. There was something really final about waking up. Nothing killed me last night, but today is definitely the day. Then I almost just died because I don’t know how to dry myself after a shower. Can you imagine? The first Decker getting taken out by a puddle?”

“Definitely one for the history books, but not how you want to go down.”

I almost find the whole thing funny. “Someone out there is going to start ranking dumb Decker deaths, aren’t they?”

Orion turns on his side, hovering over me slightly. “If you die a dumb Decker death I’ll tell everyone you died saving the world.”

“Or something more realistic, like I rescued kids out of a burning school bus.”

“Kids in a school bus on a Saturday isn’t realistic.”

“Neither is saving the whole wide world!”

Orion laughs. He hops up. “Okay, we can brainstorm more brilliant ways for you to die while we’re out living your life.”

I take his hand while also holding the towel over my junk. Orion helps me up, and our eyes meet, and his smile gets one out of me. He’s pulled me out of my dark headspace already. I break eye contact and stare at his white shirt: Have a Happy End Day! in bold black letters. It’s the kind of spirit I need to carry me throughout today.

“Since you’re getting my heart, can I take your shirt?”

Orion looks down at his shirt like he’s forgotten what it is. “Really? You want to be a Decker walking around in an End Day shirt? Isn’t that so dark?”

“I think I should keep that message close to my heart.”

“Literally?”

“Literally, I guess.”

“If you say so.” Orion takes off the shirt, and right when I think I’m about to glimpse what he looks like shirtless, he has another underneath.

That’s a shame.

I get dressed in the bathroom and admire my reflection in the End Day shirt.

I step out into the studio space to give Orion a turn in the bathroom while I fight my way into my white sneakers that are so fresh they need some breaking into. I’m sure the downstairs neighbor is rightfully annoyed to hear me stomping at six forty-five in the morning, but they can’t possibly hate me more than our landlord. I can’t concern myself with either of them. This is my End Day, and I know a model centering himself seems obvious, but in my case it’s deserved. I need to take care of myself and my people. Even if that means disturbing my downstairs neighbor as I walk around to make sure this apartment is tidy for Scarlett. I leave the bed alone since we’ll go and get new sheets for her together; I also personally like letting this memory of my last sleep live a little longer.

Once Orion is done, he comes out of the bathroom applauding my look. “I hope they’re paying you the big bucks because you make a twenty-dollar shirt look expensive.”

The money for the job is great, and I have to make sure they can wire it directly into my account so Scarlett can claim it. Maybe I can even ask for a cash payment.

“That’s really nice. Thank you,” I say.

“My weather app says it’s kind of chilly this morning. You might want to throw on another layer.”

“You too, then.”

“Oh, I’m definitely robbing you, I don’t fuck with the cold.”

We go through my shirts, and Orion chooses a navy hoodie and I put on my solid gray collared shirt with the buttons undone so my End Day messaging doesn’t get lost.

Then one foot out the apartment.

A trip down six flights of steps.

And I pause at the lobby door.

The last time I left this building, I thought everything was beginning. I had all the hope in the world and years of dreams I would be working to make come true. Now as I push the door open, I’m building steel nerves to get me through what I can only hope to be the best End Day a Decker can possibly have.





Rolando Rubio


6:56 a.m.

Rolando is exhausted when he steps out of the building, putting Death-Cast behind him.