Page 749 of End Game

Under that is a link.

I don't tap it immediately.

Instead, I open Instagram and search Dex's name.

Not because I'm a masochist.

Because this is literally part of what I do for a living.

If something is spreading online, randomly scrolling your own feed is how you see whatever an algorithm thinks will upset you most. Searching the terms, checking recent posts, tracing tags, and looking at who is reposting what tells you what is actually happening.

Dex Mercer.

Grave Intentions.

Micah Vale.

Austin Fletcher wedding.

Within five minutes, I can see the path.

The documentary drops.

Someone recognizes Dex from Grave Intentions.

Someone else reposts Austin performing at the wedding.

Another person realizes Dex is one of the guys in old Halloween photos.

And then people start digging.

I find the photos they're talking about.

Not last Halloween.

The one before that.

Our D&D costumes.

Me dressed as a cleric with enough cleavage to make religious doctrine questionable.

Micah in dark rogue gear, looking like he might steal your wallet and make you thank him for it.

Griffin as a paladin.

Dex as the world's least subtle bard.

Ronan in black leather and eyeliner because apparently “Dungeon Daddy” became an actual costume concept and we all collectively allowed it.

There are group pictures.

Candid ones.

A few where I am tucked against Griffin while Dex has an arm around me.

Others where Micah and Dex are very obviously not maintaining platonic personal space.

One where Ronan's hand is at my lower back while I'm looking up at him in a way that, in retrospect, was not exactly discreet.