Saturday, May 4 – Jay's Apartment, Midtown
The sun poured into Jay's apartment like it had something to prove.
It was bright. Way too bright for someone who had nowhere to be.
Jay blinked at the ceiling for a full minute before moving. He could still hear echoes of the rooftop party in his head — laughter, shouting, the clatter of truth-or-dare dares that should've been illegal.
But that was yesterday.
Today was… nothing.
No alarm. No uniform. No class to run to. Just a clear May sky outside the window and the quiet hum of the AC unit.
Jay stretched lazily across the bed and rolled over onto his side.
So this is freedom.
It was strange.
Not unwelcome — just strange.
Midtown Silence
By noon, he was up, showered, and dressed in the most casual thing he owned — plain white tee, loose dark pants, sandals.
He wandered the streets of Midtown like a ghost.
It was still early in summer vacation, so some families were still home. The usual business crowd had vanished. School kids were scattered. Street food stalls were open, though. The bookstore down the road had flipped their summer clearance board. Even the corner tea shop had changed their menu to "iced everything."
Jay walked like he wasn't looking for anything. Because he wasn't.
He grabbed an iced black coffee with lemon, found a bench near the edge of the riverwalk, and sat.
No music.
No people he knew.
Just the river lazily pushing along and pigeons looking at him like they expected snacks.
What do normal people do with free time again?
He wasn't sure.
Quiet Apartment, Loud Knock
It was mid-afternoon when he got back to his apartment.
Jay stepped inside, kicked off his sandals, and dropped onto the couch like a man who had just fought a war. The remote sat nearby, untouched. So did a pile of old books. His phone had one notification: a meme from Tyler.
He smiled, barely.
Then, a knock.
Not the doorbell. A knock.
Three times. Sharp.
Jay sat up slowly.
He wasn't expecting anyone.
He opened the door halfway, cautious.
Emma stood there, holding a small notebook and a paper bag. She looked... surprised. Like she hadn't planned this far.
"…Hey," she said.
Jay blinked. "Hey."
A beat.
Emma held out the notebook. "You left this in class. I think it's yours."
Jay took it slowly. "It is."
Another beat.
"…And the bag?" he asked.
"Ah. Right." She thrust it at him. "Iced peach tea. You drink that, right?"
Jay blinked again. "Sometimes."
Emma crossed her arms. "Great. Now you do."
Two Drinks, No Talk
They ended up sitting on the couch. Both sipping their drinks. No TV. No music. Just the low hum of traffic from outside and the tick of the wall clock.
Jay didn't press her.
Emma didn't explain herself.
They sat like that for maybe a minute or two — her on one end, him on the other. The silence between them wasn't awkward. Not exactly.
More like… a question neither of them wanted to ask.
She finally broke it.
"So you're not going anywhere?"
Jay shook his head. "No plans."
"Not even traveling?"
"I like it here."
Emma nodded once. "Right. Of course you do."
Another pause.
Jay sipped his drink. "You came all this way just to give back a notebook?"
Emma stared down at her tea. "…Maybe."
Jay tilted his head slightly. "Maybe?"
She stood up. "Okay, I'm leaving now."
Jay didn't move. "You just got here."
"I came. I returned something. I gave you a drink. That's three things. That's… socially acceptable."
He chuckled. "You sure?"
Emma opened the door, but didn't step through it.
"…Maybe I'll drop by again sometime," she said, not looking back.
Jay leaned his head back against the couch. "I'll probably still be here."
She left.
The door clicked shut behind her.
One More Hour of Nothing
Jay stayed in place, staring at the ceiling again.
The drink was half-finished. The notebook sat in his lap.
He didn't open it.
Didn't need to.
He looked around the room — clean, still, quiet.
And for once, he didn't feel the weight of anything behind him.
Not his name.
Not the estate.
Not a future shaped by others.
Just this one moment, unowned.