Chapter 9
-Cash-
After turning off the light, I let myself drop through the floor before slipping through the walls and out onto the street. It takes me a while to get there, but I eventually reach the cemetery. Like always, there are fresh flowers left on my grave.
I smile slightly, the sight of them reminding me that my family still thinks about me. That even though I’m not with them anymore, my family is still with me.
Huddling up against my gravestone, I close my eyes. I don’t need to sleep, obviously, but I still can if I choose to. It’s a good way to pass the time until either my family or Wrigley wakes up and I can go hang out with someone.
Or no, if my family wakes up, then I can haunt them. Because they’ll never see me, they’ll never know I’m here.
But Wrigley? Wrigley knows I’m here, he can see me. He can touch me. He can talk to me.
So, I spend the evening thinking about Wrigley. There’s a lot to think about; he’s so chaotic and filled with life that it honestly takes me a while to think over everything I know about a man I only met two days ago.
In some ways, I can relate to him. We both lost our family. And whilst I lost mine through my own death and he lost his through their deaths and the aftermath…I know how he feels.
Wrigley Johanneson is lonely.
And so am I. But with him, I’m just a little less lonely.
—————
When I eventually make it back to Wrigley’s shop I frown slightly. The closed sign is still on the door because it’s early, but I can hear voices. Voices which aren’t Wrigley’s.
Speeding up the stairs, I burst into his room through the door (which I obviously don’t bother to open) to see two people standing at the foot of the bed whilst Wrigley sits on his bed with his back to them as one of them does some complicated-looking hairstyle on him.
“Are they your friends?” I ask, sitting down in front of him. Wrigley snaps his eyes open before giving me a discreet thumbs up. Nodding, I move slightly closer to get a good look at the style the person is doing on his hair.
“Damn, this looks good. Is your friend a stylist or something?” I ask, taking in the appearance of their buzzed purple hair and many bracelets and piercings. Wrigley gives me a small thumbs down and I hum gently, watching as the other person stretches slightly, yawning.
“Alright well I’m going downstairs, you mind if I raid your fridge?”
It seems to take Wrigley a moment to realise that he can actually reply to this person and he lets out a slightly strangled ‘yes’ as the person tugs on his hair. “Whoops, sorry. You mind holding this bit whilst I grab the hair-tie?”
Wrigley nods, doing as his friend says and holding a portion of his hair. Whilst the person isn’t standing behind him, I climb off the bed to fully inspect Wrigley’s hair. “Dude this suits you a lot - are you going somewhere special today?”
I lean forwards to touch his hair. It’s softer than I expected and very straight; I don’t think Wrigley’s hair has ever been curled in its life.
“Woah where did your friend come from?” The person asks and I just ignore them, still touching Wrigley’s hair before he clears his throat. “U-um, what’re you talking about?” He says awkwardly, turning around slightly to look at his friend.
I start pulling my hand away from Wrigley’s hair but his fingers dart out, touching mine and removing my hand from his hair himself. He doesn’t let go of my hand, but he isn’t even looking at me; he’s looking at his friend.
It’s then that I realise that his friend is looking at me. Me. There’s no way, right? Wrigley and I both look down at our hands at the same time and I suck in a breath. “Oh, well this is uh, hi. Just to check, you can see me right?”
His friend raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Yeah? God though dude seriously have you never seen the sun? You’re actually the palest person I’ve ever met. Are you Wrigley’s boyfriend?”
I open and close my mouth a few times, having literally no clue what to say, whilst Wrigley just squeezes my hand slightly. “Yep. He was in the uh, the bathroom when you arrived. This is um, this is Cash, and this is Leigh. And yeah Cash actually has this um, this genetic disease? It makes him uh, he’s super pale, as you can see,” Wrigley says quickly, glancing over at me for assistance.
I nod, sitting down on the bed next to Wrigley just in case he accidentally lets go of my hand and I vanish in front of this person. He doesn’t let go of my hand though. “Yeah it’s called uh, exy-exola- uhh exylatyly chrono- um dichronolysis. Yep, exoylt- exylatyly dichronolysis. That’s what it’s called. Bit of a mouthful, so I normally just say I’m pale.”
Leigh raises an eyebrow at my blatant fumbling but doesn’t question it. “Cool, ok then. How come you never mentioned him Wrigley? How long have you guys known each other?”
We exchange a look again and I slowly clear my throat. “We um- it’s been a few months, right? We uh- we became a couple two days ago.” Well that sounds plausible at least. Wrigley nods emphatically, suddenly letting go of my hand just so he can wrap his arm around my shoulder. I don’t vanish or anything because we have the safety net of sitting right next to each other, luckily.
“Yep, that’s right. I didn’t mention him because- because he’s a dick.”
Both Leigh and I stare at him, before Leigh starts laughing. “Wow, ok. Two days into the relationship and you’re already calling him a dick. Good to know you guys are friendly with each other.”
“Yeah, I mean he’s cool, so. Cash may be an annoying twat half the time but he’s a fun guy and he can be pretty nice. We just thought we’d make a good couple, you know?” Wrigley says, his hand on my shoulder increasing its pressure slightly.
I nod before patting his leg. “Yeah Wrigley is a little shit but he’s a good guy beneath it all.”
“You got that right,” Leigh smirks, reaching out to pat both of our heads. It feels so strange, being touched by someone other than Wrigley. I guess that when he makes me solid, when he makes me here, he makes me here for everyone.
What if I could see my family again?
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