Chapter 1
he simply stood there and looked around the apartment. He had always been forced to live with at least one other person until this very moment. His family, his ‘friends’, coworkers, random roommates. But here? Here was isolation. And as an introvert living a life of forced interaction day in, day out, isolation was a gift. Or was it? Gabe sighed softly as he picked the boxes back up and moved them deeper into the studio apartment, knowing that if he didn’t do it now, he would leave it until tomorrow. Moving around the TV stand that was the only thing serving as a wall between the ‘living room’ and the ‘bedroom’ of his squalid home, he set the boxes on the dresser and started unpacking. There wasn’t a whole lot there. Books, mostly. A small lamp. A few games that hadn’t made it over during the previous trip. Some clothes. Most significant was his sound system. He set that up with great care. It might be little more than a docking port for an MP3 player and a pair of speakers, but when he’d finally bought it a year ago it had become invaluable to the preservation of his sanity. Getting it plugged in behind the dresser, Gabe set it up, selected the first lo-fi playlist available, and let it play. He actually felt himself relax, his entire body, as the music began. After he finished unpacking the boxes and putting everything away, he broke them down and pushed them into the trashcan, then walked over and collapsed onto his sofa. It was more of a loveseat than a sofa, really. He found himself making little mental amendments like that in his life all the time, almost as if he himself should come with an asterisk. He had a car, but it was a shitty hatchback with little room. He had a laptop, but it was eight years old. He had a bank account, but it was in the red. He had a phone, but… Gabe pulled his phone out of his pocket and started at the glossy black rectangle bitterly. But it had cost him goddamned six hundred dollars. He was still regretting that one, even though he knew it was unreasonable. He was so sick and tired of having a crap phone, having crap everything, but when his phone had broke it was either get another crap one or actually upgrade. And he’d finally had a little bit of money, so… But the money was already gone. All gone now, in such a ridiculous gamble. His mind swirled as he sat there on his loveseat, staring at his phone. Well, really staring at his reflection in it. Unhappy with that particular sight, he activated the screen. He laughed softly as he saw the date. October 19th, 2023. Today was supposed to be the first day in the next chapter of his life. The day he turned over a new leaf. The day he buckled down, got his shit together, and stopped being such a failure. The day it all changed. It was a Thursday. Somehow, it didn’t feel right. Who the hell revolutionized their life on a Thursday? In October, no less? With a sigh, he unlocked the screen and called up the contacts, then stopped. Why was he checking out his contacts? Gabe looked around his apartment. It felt barren, and not just because he was poor and didn’t have a lot of furniture or stuff, nor that even if he wasn’t, he preferred a more minimalist style of living. It was another thing entirely. He was lonely. Isolation was a gift, but he was lonely. He’d lived with people for his entire life, but he had often been alone. With a weary sigh he began scanning the list. There were just about three dozen names there. For some reason his parents were still in there, and his brother. His last several roommates. A scattering of coworkers from the past several jobs he’d had. Every name he looked at gave him a bad feeling in his stomach. He wouldn’t call Jeremy, the guy had stolen from him. He refused to call Peter, the guy was a psycho who couldn’t go out in public without starting a fight. He definitely wasn’t looking to hang out with Lisa, not after that absolutely miserable single date they’d gone on. God, what did he even still have Nick’s number!? Gabe went through the list twice before realizing that there wasn’t even a single person he wanted to see. Was he that much of an antisocial introvert? It was possible, but as he began running through the list a third time, growing almost desperate in his bid for some kind of human contact, he kept coming up with memories, bad ones. Memories of things he had decided he would no longer tolerate. Abruptly, the screen cleared to show an incoming call from an unknown number. For a moment, he stared at it, almost automatically deactivating the screen, because scam calls were out of control now, no matter how many times he blocked them. And declining the call told them there was a human being on the other end, so he’d just taken to deactivating the screen to shut his phone up and let it go to voicemail. They didn’t even bother with automated messages anymore, not that he was complaining. Except this number didn’t come with a tag that said SCAM or POLITICAL CALL or MARKETING CALL. It came with no tag, and now that he was thinking about it, he actually recognized the number. Not enough to know who it was, but to know that he had once had this number in his memory. But who in the name of God could it be that he’d actually gone to the trouble of deleting? Curiosity, and the crushing burden of loneliness, forced his hand. He answered the call. “Hello?” A long pause came that made him start to think it was indeed a scam call, it had just slipped the net. Only...no, he could hear breathing and the faint sounds of traffic on the other end. “...Gabe?” A woman’s voice. Familiar, dauntingly familiar, but for a moment he grappled helplessly with his memories, trying to put a name to the voice. It was a coworker, a former coworker, it had to be. He was sure of it. Someone he’d talked with many times, but the only woman he really remembered talking with frequently was– “Ellen?” “Yeah, it’s Ellen. Um. Hi...this is you, right?” she asked uncertainly. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry. It’s Gabe. I, uh, almost didn’t recognize your number.” He waited and another uncomfortable pause went by. He had the sense that something was wrong, he could hear it in her voice. “Are you okay?” “Not really,” she murmured. Then, more resolutely: “No, I’m not okay.” He felt a stab of icy panic grip him. “Are you hurt? Or is someone after you?” “No, nothing like that. Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m, um, I’m safe. I’m not hurt. Just...I’m in a bad spot.” She paused again. It sounded so alien, hearing her like this, especially when he became convinced that she had been crying. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he felt confident this was the truth. Something in her tone. “Can I help?” he asked finally. She’d obviously called him for a reason. “Yes.” Another uncomfortable hesitation. “Can I come to your place? I need a place to go. I need someone to talk to.” “You can come over,” he replied. “Thank you. I still remember where your place is, I shouldn’t be too far away.” “I’ve just moved, actually. Well, I’ve moved like three
