[✔️] 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐾 𝑂𝐹 𝑀𝐸 | 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
"𝑁𝑜 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡. "
—𝑂. 𝐻𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑦, 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑒𝑠𝑡

𝐈
— 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑎 —

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 as she followed Luther into an Irish pub, examining the posters on the wall that announced J.F.K.'s arrival and the mix of American and Irish flags that were strung along the wall.

The pub was quite alive with chatter and Irish jig music, and the tables were filled with plenty of people, all of them, presumably, waiting for J.F.K.'s motorcade.

Five set his eyes on someone who was sitting at the bar, and shifted uncomfortably in his spot as he told them, "Well, there I am."

Mara peered over a wooden pole to see the man Five was staring at, and it was evident that this was the older version of him.

He seemed to be quite short, judging by the fact that his feet didn't reach the ground; his hair was parted neatly, all traces of colour gone as it had greyed, and his mustache was coloured similarly; and he seemed to be working quite diligently on writing something in a book, a half-finished beer accompanying him.

And sitting in front of his feet, was a briefcase.

Luther's face scrunched up as he turned to Five and asked, "Why don't we just grab the briefcase and run?"

"Luther, I would never let that happen," Five replied with furrowed eyebrows, shaking his head. "We're trained to guard these briefcases with our lives."

"Right." Luther nodded as the three of them looked back towards the older Five.

"Plus," the boy continued, "it's the inherent paradox where this gets tricky. I'm endangering my existence just being in the room with myself."

"Huh—what do you mean?" Luther questioned in bafflement.

"Luther, try to keep up," Five chided with a sigh. "If old me doesn't travel back to 2019 like he's supposed to, the whole thing unravels itself. I cease to exist. You got me?"

Luther definitely did not get him. "I get you."

"So our best chance is to talk with him," Five explained, "to reason with him."

"Ah." Luther nodded.

"He'll understand," Five reassured them, though that reassurement seemed to be more to himself. "Trust me. I know myself better than, uh . . . better than I know myself." He shrugged before reaching up and scratching his neck, causing Mara's eyes to widen.

"You just itched your neck," she accused, jabbing a finger in his direction. "That's stage two of paradox psychosis."

"No, I didn't," Five immediately refused, giving a small shake of the head as he provided a reassuring smile. "I didn't itch my neck."

"Denial is stage one," Luther pointed out, eliciting a nod of agreement from Mara.

"I am fine, okay?" Five told them firmly as he leaned forward. "Let's stay on task, shall we?"

As Five began to walk toward his older self, Mara grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to his spot as she whispered, "Wait!"

"What?"

"Maybe Luther and I should go first," she suggested, glancing over to Luther, who shrugged.

"Why?" Five questioned, his eyebrows furrowing.