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Arin observes the figure to his left with curious eyes. Long fingers lift a blunt to thin lips, and the two watch the smoke float up into the night sky. Arin doesn't smoke anything, but he'd be lying if he tried to say he doesn't love watching this older boy do it. He makes weed look cool, like in the movies the two of them watch together when Arin visits his apartment.
A gentle hum breaks the lull in conversation as the pair sit on Arin's roof. The high schooler looks at his companion's dazed face, awaiting any real words.
"Y'know, Arin..."
"Yeah?"
He looks like he's searching hard for the right words. "I fucking hate this town, of course, but I think I like it when you're in it."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean..." His brows furrow, and he smooths a hand over his unruly, frizzy hair. "I mean that it kinda feels natural to be here when you're here. It's wrong to be in this place when I'm alone, but when I'm with you, it's all right. We just fit together perfectly, y'know? Like we were made for each other."
"You mean, like, we're the main characters in a novel or something?"
That sparks a lazy smile. "Yeah, like that." Arin fixates his eyes on the trail of smoke reaching up for the stars. Things are starting to look a bit funny. "Do you ever feel like that, dude?"
Arin knows he should answer, but the stars and the chilly air and the roof and his best friend all start to fade away as he gazes into the smoke. The blunt is turning into a stick of incense. The outside scene is turning into a cramped shop, full of tarot cards and pendulums and crystals and cauldrons. A black cat darts by, a soft hand grasps his. A raven shrieks outside the window, and a bolt of lightning makes everything go white.
In the blinding light, Arin thinks he can see something else-- someone else-- a wisp of black hair, a toothy grin, smiling eyes.
Arin tries to shout out a name, but he can't figure out what name he wants to call. He can't remember who he's chasing after. Everything starts going pitch black.
He woke up tangled in his sheets, covered in sweat, taking in huge gulps of air. Within seconds, most of the dream had escaped Arin, and all he could recall was--
"Dan."
Arin groaned, hiding his face in his hands for a few moments. He hated those dreams. They'd slip away as soon as he'd wake up, but they still would always shake him. He knew something upsetting happened in them, and it made him feel all wrong. And sweaty.
After gaining some semblance of composure, the undergrad rubbed his eyes and slipped out of his bed. Before he had the chance to try and find a clean shirt to slip on, there was a knock at his door, and it was opened before allowing any response time. It would have been annoying if the face behind the door hadn't looked so genuinely worried.
"Hey Ar, you okay, man?"
Arin nodded at his roommate. "I'm fine, dude."
"You were yelling in your sleep again."
"I know, Ross. Sorry."
"No, don't be sorry, just..." He shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. "Maybe you should start talking to someone about this? Like, you take those sleeping pills and all, but they don't seem to help much."
Arin gave Ross a pointed look, which he understood immediately. The transfer student hesitantly let Arin go back to getting ready in peace, but after thinking for a moment, Arin actually followed him out.
"Hey, Ross?"
The younger stopped dead in his tracks. "Uh, yeah?"
"Do you remember me talking about Dan?"
"That stoner you were friends with in high school?"
"Yeah. I need to find him."