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The apocalypse hadn’t made the world such a bad place. If you’d ask Joel, it might even be better than before. He could go wherever he wanted, had everything on him at all times, could even play Lizzie’s favourite songs from the 40s and 50s on his ancient-old iPod. Only having her back by his side would make things perfect.
The streets were quiet, and luckily the sun was nowhere near setting. Night meant mutants and other monsters, so he could go wherever he so pleased for a few hours yet. And when his eyes fell on the broken sign of a mall, a grin fell over his face and a laugh filtered through the mask over his mouth and nose.
He didn’t bother to check the place for any dangerous mutants — he didn’t consider himself a tryhard at staying alive like everyone else, death would take him whenever it wanted. Instead he casually found himself the control room. It only took some fiddling to get the lights and speaker systems on.
He unplugged his headphones and connected the iPod to the speakers. He couldn’t stop himself from sighing and relaxing as the speakers crackled to life. Instantly, some song by Frank Sinatra played.
Getting back to the shops, he let his eyes wander over the various storefronts. Many had gates that had been ripped apart. Others hadn’t been closed in time and the windows had been more than shattered. The glass of them crunched under his boots as he explored the mall. Various old mannequins were thrown around, chairs stood everywhere, random bits of clothing were scattered over the floor.
Joel couldn’t help but smile regardless. The place was about as abandoned as one could get, but the old music and echo of it made it all feel homely, nostalgic.
He swung around a pole and hummed along to lyrics he didn’t quite know as he pulled the shotgun from his back. Something chittered in the shadows. He loaded the weapon, barely so much as blinked when a mutant rat the size of his entire backpack walked into view, and waited until the saxophone played to shoot its body to hell and back.
Not for the first time that day, he wished he had Lizzie to enjoy this world with him. To hold her hand and swing her around to her favourite song.
The person in front of him as he turned on his heel wasn’t Lizzie, not by far. He’d just twirled around, shotgun still loose in his grip, when the shocked eyes of some stranger suddenly met his own. He froze, a panic rising up his throat. How had he sneaked up on him like that?
In an instant, his shotgun was up. “Stay back!” he shouted, trying his hardest to sound intimidating. How could he possibly, if he’d just been dancing and reminiscing about his past lover?
The other just raised his hands, backing up a step. “Not looking for trouble!” His hands were empty. A holster sat on his hip, gun out of reach for now. Joel lowered his own.
“What are you doing here?” he asked the stranger. Now that he wasn’t an immediate threat, he could take him in for a moment. The strikingly white hair and mismatched eyes were the first thing he noticed, of course, and then the expensive-looking mask covering the lower half of his face that almost made Joel scoff — he wouldn’t ask how he got it, he couldn’t care less whether this guy had been a rich snob or had stolen the thing. But he looked like a survivor; decently fed and stealthy enough, someone careful.
“I heard the music! I’ve been hiding out here, and I didn’t think the speaker systems still worked.” A soft laugh filtered through the mask. “Why did you even try?”
He lowered the shotgun so the barrel aimed at the floor. With a shrug, he took a quick look around to check if this stranger wasn’t the only one around. “Felt like doing something stupid.”
A hum. “So you’re not with those guys that are looking for settlements to take over? If you are, where’s the others?” Joel only then noticed how tense he was, how ready to shoot into action if he had to. “You people never stray far from your group.”
“I’m not with them. Want nothing to do with them, even.” It was the truth. He couldn’t care less for those settlements that tried to use the old system of living. Just roaming the world, finding himself fun things to do, was enough for him.
At that, the stranger finally relaxed. His hands dropped to his sides.
“My name is Joel, what’s yours?” He had no idea what pushed him to ask, but it wouldn’t be the most impulsive thing he’d said to a stranger. Something about the mall and the music playing made him at ease, maybe something about the stranger himself as well.
“Etho,” he replied — Joel thought it fit him well. His foot tapped to the music, his eyes crinkling in what was surely a smile underneath the mask. “Haven’t heard this kind of music in so long, even before the end.”
He nodded, putting the shotgun away again. “It’s good music.” It was only natural he started to shimmy along as well. Etho laughed softly, and Joel had no idea why, but he wanted to keep hearing it. Some more light in this desolate world, maybe. He’d missed hearing people laugh.
“Do you want to dance?”
And he didn’t give the embarrassment at the sudden question a chance to heat up his cheeks, already extending a hand out to the other.
For a moment, Joel thought the invitation would be rejected. Etho stared at the hand, a thoughtful and hesitant look on his face, but then huffed and took his hand. It didn’t matter that it was a little cold to the touch, not to him. “I might be a bit rusty,” he mumbled, as if he was meant to know how to dance at all.
They fell into a rhythm easily enough. Their weapons and backpack were ditched, shoved aside so they wouldn’t hinder their movement. And really, it was like they’d known each other for ages. Laughs slipped out easily, they matched each other’s steps as if they’d practised, their hands fit together perfectly. They danced every dance they knew, even when it didn’t match the songs in the slightest.
Joel couldn’t help but be impressed by Etho. As rusty as he claimed to be, it took little to no effort to keep up with him. From quickstep to the tango — most of which Lizzie had taught him — he knew them all by heart as well. As they started to waltz along to a perfectly timed song, Etho just laughed along with him. Joel didn’t stand a chance, joy bubbling from his chest as he laughed as well.
The grief he carried with him went completely forgotten.
After who knew how long, he lowered Etho towards the ground in a dip. Both were panting, time fully forgotten and their eyes locked together. Trust was written all over the other’s face, trust that he wouldn’t be dropped right then. And Joel didn’t, pulling him back up after a moment that felt like eternity.
They ended up flush against each other, faces inches apart. Despite himself, despite knowing Etho for just a few minutes, despite the world having gone to shit, the joy threatened to overwhelm him then. He hadn’t had this much fun in so long and god, he’d missed it so much.
Holding onto Etho’s shoulders, he stood on the tips of his toes to press their gas masks together in a mock kiss. Because if he couldn’t have the real thing, he’d go for the second best. It was worth it, just to see Etho’s face light up like a Christmas tree. He could pretend easily enough it was real, closing his eyes for a moment as the other pulled him impossibly closer.
When he finally let go and stepped away he couldn’t find it in himself to apologise. Instead, his selfish self did the opposite. “Thanks. I needed that, I think,” he said, voice so soft the music that still played almost drowned it out. He could go on for a little longer now. This proved there was still fun in the world.
Before he could even turn to his backpack, Etho grabbed his hand. “Wait-” he rushed out, only hesitating when Joel gave him a curious look. “You’re the first nice person to come around here. Do you- well, you should stick around.”
Not a question. He should stick around. Because in this world whether or not either of them would admit it, everyone was selfish and so were they. They wanted someone around, for however long they could manage. They both desperately needed someone, a friend, maybe something more.
“Okay,” he said, like it was easy. “Let’s stick together.”