Page 64 of If the World Was Ending

Colby felt like he was dreaming, having Hunter here, in the flesh. He looked… different somehow. Colby couldn’t put his finger on it. His hair was longer, maybe? He had definitely bulked up a bit. His chest seemed wider. He walked side by side with Colby, and Colby realized he seemed taller, too, but it was because of his boots. Colby wondered, self-consciously, if Hunter thought Colby looked better than he remembered. God, he fucking hoped so.

“Where do you want to go?” Colby asked as the snow on the sidewalk crunched underneath their feet. He pulled a beanie on over his head because not having hair was cold. “It’s your city. Do you have a favorite hangout?”

Hunter considered the question. His dark eyes darted to Colby and then to the sidewalk. “I haven’t lived here in over half a decade. I used to hang out at Peel Pub or Winnies but…”

Say it. Say it. Say it, Colby’s brain pleaded.

“Holy shit!”

The voice came from Colby’s left. Both he and Hunter turned to see two women, probably in their early twenties. Neither was in a coat, but both held lit cigarettes and stunned expressions. “Are…you…”

“You’re Colby Keaton,” the other woman said with awe in her tone. Colby nodded. “We fucking love you.”

“Thanks.” Colby had had this happen a few times, and it always felt like an out-of-body experience. “I appreciate it.”

“Your song… ‘Uncomplicated Ending’ is my anthem for life,” the first girl gushed. “I want it played at my funeral.”

“Dark, but I respect it,” Hunter murmured.

Colby fought a chuckle. “This is Hunter. He’s an actor.”

“Cool. What can I see you in?” the taller of the two asked.

“Nothing yet.”

“He’s got a movie coming out called Platonic Planet. You’ll love it.”

“Can we get a?—”

“Gimme your phone I’ll take it for you guys,” Hunter told her, extending his hand. Colby could tell he just wanted to change the subject. He wondered if Hunter still had imposter syndrome. Colby got it sometimes too, so he understood. There was so damn much that they just inherently understood about each other. This was why Colby missed him with a relentless ache in his chest. All the time.

Hunter snapped a couple of pictures while the girls sandwiched Colby with beaming smiles. Colby thanked them again and told them to get back in and catch Hannah’s set before they froze to death. They obliged but not without throwing out more praise like, “you’re so amazing” and “I can’t wait to see you headline a tour.”

Once they left, he turned back to Hunter. “Sorry. Where were we?”

“Don’t be sorry. That was the coolest thing ever,” Hunter replied and grinned.

“That’ll be you one day too,” Colby said, and Hunter just shrugged. “Where are we going?”

“It’s cold, and I’ve spent too much time with… other people,” Hunter explained with a flash of the most vulnerable, sheepish smile. “I don’t know if a bar is my thing tonight.”

“Do you just want to spend time with me?” Colby asked it because he hoped for it.

Hunter looked down, his black hair tumbling across his forehead. “Yeah. Badly.”

“My hotel is this way,” Colby said, pointing east, and turned so abruptly in the snow he almost slipped.

Colby’s hotel was a three-star boutique thing in the Old Port district of Montreal. The room was tiny, but nice and clean with teak furniture. Colby’s suitcase was open, with clothes spilling out of it, at the foot of the queen-sized bed. When Hunter glanced into the bathroom, he saw a counter full of hair products and skin care items, which felt off because Colby’s only skincare back in their West Hollywood apartment had been water, soap, and sunblock. Hunter smiled at him. “How do you have so many hair products when you don’t have a ton of hair anymore? And what’s with the forty bottles of face stuff?”

Colby smiled sheepishly. “I can’t figure out how to make my hair look cool. Hannah got me into Korean skincare. It’s a whole ordeal, but I haven’t had a zit in weeks, and my pores are non-existent.”

“Thank God, your pores were so big I thought they should have paid rent,” Hunter snarked, and Colby laughed and flipped him a middle finger. Hunter smiled at Colby as he leaned on the frame of the bathroom door because he didn’t know what else to do. “Since when do you aspire to coolness?”

“Since Trevor has effortlessly hot hair according to social media and Kenner has been dubbed the band’s sexy bitch.”

Hunter lifted an eyebrow. “And you care? The dude who basically had to be bullied into an Instagram account.”

“No, but the label cares.”