SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

THIRTY FIVE

MORGAN'S POV

I got back to New York, finally. It's been a week, and I still haven't seen my brother yet, but I know we'll catch up soon with Thanksgiving coming up.

Paris? Yeah, that plan got scrapped. So, I did the next logical thing – bought myself a car. Not as cool as my old beat-up green one, but hey, it's reliable. Can't complain.

I wish I could've shown it to Jack, but I'm scared I'll run into Riley if I show up at his place.

Today, it's raining, and it feels oddly satisfying. The sound of the rain against my window is soothing. I decide to go for a drive to clear my mind, taking the car for a spin through the city streets. The rain blurs the neon lights, giving everything a surreal, dream-like quality.

I stop at the 7-Eleven for a Diet Coke. I know this might seem weird, but it actually helps me a lot. It's a little ritual that keeps me from reaching for something with alcohol in it. Yeah, I was that down bad. I'm trying to stay on track, and grabbing a Diet Coke is something I used to enjoy before everything got so complicated.

I walk in, take a large cup, and pour a generous amount of ice—just enough to give that satisfying sting at the back of my throat. I head straight for the fountain, making sure to choose the Diet Coke, not the regular or Coke Zero. There's something about Diet Coke that just hits differently.

Once I'm done, I pay and wish the cashier a good night.

Back in my car, I take a long sip, feeling the cold bubbles burst on my tongue. It's a small pleasure, but right now, it feels like a victory. I lean back in my seat for a moment, enjoying the simple act of it. 

I pull out my phone, fingers tapping against the screen as I navigate to Riley's profile with my fake account. Yeah, I know, it's a bit shady, but curiosity always gets the best of me. Riley's been on my mind way too much lately. Not in a creepy, stalkerish way, just... I can't help but wonder, you know?

Scrolling through her pics, I can't shake this stupid comparison game. Is she funnier? Prettier? Does she dress better? It's all so superficial, but damn, the jealousy's real. I analyze every photo, every caption, trying to figure out why Jack might be into her. It's irrational, I know, but emotions don't always play by the rules.

Gab told me they weren't even together, which should make me feel better, but it doesn't. Apparently, Jack even told her something like, "Are you ready to cry? Because I'm no good." What the fuck, right?  I don't know the context, but it sounds like something he'd say in an argument. It sounds harsh. He's usually so considerate, so that must have been a heated moment.

I know I should put the phone down, stop this unhealthy spiral, but it's like an itch I can't scratch. Every time I try to distract myself, the curiosity creeps back in. What if there's a clue that'll unlock the mystery of Jack's sudden interest in Riley? It's a vicious cycle, and I'm stuck in the middle.

Still parked, I chew on my straw, eyes glued to Riley's profile. A new story pops up. My thumb hovers for a sec before I cave, clicking on it. It's Riley and her squad, all glam at some casino in Vegas, drinks in hand.

She even tagged the location: Vegas. And the story was posted just fifteen minutes ago.

For a second, I think about it. Jack's schedule flashes through my mind – yesterday's home game, the upcoming match against the Rangers. Vegas doesn't fit into the equation, does it? But what if it does? It's not like I know his schedule by heart or anything, but I remember that his next game is against the Rangers.