Chapter Text
Earth-318. September 20th, 2026.
Rain tickled your neck, slowly forming a long shiver along your spine.
"Hey Hobie. You look like shit in the rain."
The wind made the trees rustle and some strand of hair stick to your wet face. You smirked sadly at the wood cross in front of you.
"But at least you're not in some fancy stone grave like those bitches, yeah ?"
You sighed, and rubbed your face, searching deseperately to get rid of all this water.
"I brought you some rings I found at Camden the other day. Exchanged it with my Sex Pistols pin."
Your used boots started to sink a bit in the mud forming where grass and flowers used to be.
"I'm going to miss it but... I don't know. I felt like they're... Special for a reason."
You rolled one of them between your index and your thumb, eyes unfocused on it.
"The guy who made them seemed like a cool mystic foreigner. You would have loved him."
You got down to offer the strange silver rings to the foot of the cross. There were three of them. Those had some unusual curved shapes with tiny symbols engraved on them.
"And... I brought you this."
Thick drops stormed on your shoulders and head, forcing you to have to bat your eyelashes to get rid of this water ruining your view. You got the bracelet out of your leather jacket's pocket. It was made of a thin lace decorated with some silver pins, knots and unmatching pearls, some in wood, some in colored glass. A delicate trinket stood out of the crowd of ornements. A small round trinket with a spider clumsily engraved in it.
"I made it myself. At first I wanted to write our initials or some dumb romantic shit on the trinket but... I finally settled for a spider. 'cause it was what brought us together, remember ?"
Your eyes closed, shorlty reminscing this disaster gig when Hobie couldn't unstick his fingers from his guitar strings. You could feel your blood in the veins of your ears. Fuck this fever. You'll stay in the rain anyway.
"I love how you kept saying it was your best performance. You kept claiming 'it was genius, like a metaphor against traditional music playing, I felt like Jimi Hendrix for a moment', you mimicked him".
Nine months had past since he died. Since your lover, your best friend, your only family and icon died. Since everything he was and everything he brought in life slowly faded to just... memories and heritage.
"Hobie..." you whispered.
Your body felt suddently hot. It was an unpleasent warmth that made your head spin and vision blur. You placed the bracelet besides the rings anyway, along this dark piece of stone where the name "Hobie Brown" was etched. The trinket made a light tick sound when touching one of the ring.
"I miss you..."