All Night Long (Olympus Drive Chronicles)

Time: 17:25

Phoenix

"Remember how we said that I would be with you? No matter what? Even if we were separated? I'm begging you not to do this, please, remember I promised I wouldn't leave? I didn't leave, I'm right----ah fuck me," I'm slumped across a check stand, trying and failing to scoop up a row of five hour energy drinks that my more impulsive half is purchasing.

"Guess you're really not here, you'd fucking climb out of hell if you even though I was doing this," Axel mutters, pushing the little bottles up. It's a tiny, nearly empty quick-mart, with red and white florescent lights, a sharp contrast from the foggy London night.

"I am here---I promise I'm here—I am here and I would really like you to think rationally and not do whatever it is you're doing---"

"Dude, chill."

I turn around to look at the speaker. A girl, in a hoodie that's zipped up all the way. She's slumped against one of the closed registers.

"You can see me?" I ask, hopefully.

"Yeah. I'm dead too," she says, chewing on a fingernail.

"But I wasn't---I---"

"You're new huh?" she asks.

"Not really, I've been dead for a long time---but the thing is, usually he can see me," I say, pointing to Axel who is checking out.

"Lucky you. They usually kinda know I'm there, sometimes I can move stuff. But they can't see me, just like shadows. Not tonight though, it's the solstice," she says.

"What does that mean? I've been dead for years—"

"Every ten years, in London, the powers that be do this Purge bullshit, where they close the veil, so we can't pass through at all. It's just to catch monsters, but it kinda screws with us too," she says.

"So---it'll be over?" I ask, with relief.

"Yeah, when the sun comes back up, they'll open the veil again and they'll be able to sense us," she says.

"Oh thank god," I sigh. So nothing is wrong. This is just a thing that happens. It's not a big deal.  "Stitches, come here, listen to me it's just for tonight, just go home and talk to Red and I'll be back in the morning---fuck." He's not reacting at all. That powerlessness that filled me after my death returns. I can't reach him. I can't help him.

"He's not gonna hear you. it's one night, dude, they'll be fine," she says, shrugging.

"No—he's not gonna be fine," I sigh, as he drinks all the five hour energy drinks one after the other. "I'm sorry um—who are you here for?"

"My little brother," she nods to the teenager checking out more customers. "I keep an eye on him. Usually he kind of knows I'm around. He talks to me sometimes."

"Yeah," I decide not to elaborate that I'm very real to my family. I got a better deal it would seem.

"How'd you die? Looks bad," she nods at my sweatshirt. I realize it's soaked in blood. I feel like throwing up. It's like the night I died, blood draining down my gut and onto my jeans. Axel's jeans. I took his clothes today because somebody (he) didn't do the laundry and he always has more clothes than me.

"Car accident?" she asks.

"No—ah. I was shot, it was kind of a gang thing. High school—sorry secondary school. I'm from America," I say.

"I got that," she nods, smiling a little, "He'll be okay."

"I'm concerned he won't be um—how did you die?" I ask.

"OD'd," she says, shrugging a little.

"I'm sorry—"

"I'm not. It was on purpose."

"Ah," I say, wincing a little.

"Don't look at me like that. It's fine. I was just over," she says, shrugging a little, "I do miss watching over him. So I still try to."

"Yeah. He needed me not to die," I say, sighing.

"Works out that way huh?" she says, "Anyway. Just chill. By the time he wakes up you'll be back."

"He's not going to sleep----he's going to try to get me back," I say.

"How? What's he think he's going to do?"

"I don't know---thank you for the help, I need to stay with him," I say, turning and following Axel out of the quick-mart.

"Good luck," the girl says, shrugging.

"All right, time to catch some ghostbusters," Axel says, typing on his phone.

"Whatever you're doing I'm begging you not to," I sigh.

Circe

"I don't get it," I say, staring at the books laid out in front of me in the dim purple light of the closed library. It doesn't make sense. My protection spells were accurate. They just aren't working. It's like half of the magic that I'm pulling for them just isn't there. It doesn't make any sense.

"I could help if I knew what we were looking for," Trevor says, idly, looking at a book. He's sitting half on a table, dark hair hanging a bit in his face, sport coat dotted with rain drops from our walk over.

"I'm sorry---I shouldn't be keeping you. I'm sure you have much better things to do with your night," I sigh. And I'm not getting anywhere. I really didn't want to spend my first night in civilization with incomplete spells.

"You are fine, seriously. What I usually do at this time of night is explain internet memes to my parents----except I don't do that anymore because I found out through trickery that they completely understood the memes but found it funny to act like they didn't and make me explain why they were funny, because apparently my mum and dad are the exact same breed of asshole, excuse the language," he says, not glancing up from his book.

"You're fine," I laugh a little because I don't remember the last time someone apologized for swearing around me. It's been a while. Definitely a long while. "I just—kind of was hoping to do something tonight, but I guess it's not gonna happen right now."

"Good things come to those who wait, and all that," he says.

"Then I should have the whole world coming to me," I mutter.

"Perhaps you do, and it's right around the corner," he says, smiling a slow grin. Then he slaps his hand for his phone which he set on the table.

"I wish," I say, quietly.

"Sorry---it's my---we'll go with cousin not any relation but my parents sort of adopted his dads so I suppose nephew? Yeah nephew, all right he's texting me to ask me to bring him food, I'm telling him I'm on a quest," he says, looking at his phone.

"No it's fine—I'm done here I'm not—gonna find anything else out tonight," I say, starting to put away my books.

"Can I give you a lift anywhere? Apparently I'm delivering a couple of brats some eggrolls," he says, putting his phone away.

"Yeah, actually, that would be nice," I say, before I can stop myself. It doesn't matter and it'll only delay the inevitable, going home alone. But it might be fun.