Two lives.

20. Blurry Signals

May 20th
12:15 PM

"What are you doing?" a voice behind me asked, breaking me out of my trance.

I was sprawled out on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram reels, and turned my head just enough to see who it was. "What?" I asked, squinting up at the figure.

"What are you doing?" the voice repeated, clearer now. I blinked, fully processing the sight in front of me.

It was Ekko. He stood in the middle of the lounge, shirtless, wearing Batman pajama pants, bright yellow Crocs, and holding a half-eaten bag of Takis.

"What are you doing?" I shot back, trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh at his ridiculous ensemble. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, which, honestly, he probably had.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug, popping a handful of Takis into his mouth like it was the most normal thing in the world.

We just stared at each other for a few seconds, the moment teetering between awkward and absurd, until he walked over and plopped down beside me. I shifted to make room, tucking my legs under me.

"I like your Batman PJs," I said, pointing at his pants with a grin.

"Oh, thanks," he said, swinging his legs like a little kid and grinning back at me, clearly basking in the compliment.

"You're really working the whole 'superhero-slash-snack enthusiast' vibe," I teased, nodding toward the Takis.

He chuckled, then paused, his grin softening. "Can I be honest?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"Uh... sure?" I said, my tone skeptical. A tiny wave of panic hit me—was he about to drop some life-altering confession? "What's up?"

"I stole these from Colby," Ekko said, completely deadpan, like he was confessing a crime he regretted.

"Oh," I replied, the simplicity of his admission catching me off guard. Then it hit me, and I couldn't stop myself—I burst out laughing, covering my face with my hands.

"Bro, it's not funny," he muttered, dropping his elbows onto his knees and burying his face in his hands like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. For a second, he looked like a tragic figure in a melodrama, and that only made me laugh harder.

"You'll be okay," I managed between chuckles, giving him a comforting pat on the back like he'd just endured some great hardship.

Ekko peeked at me through his fingers, his eyes narrowing as if to say, Really? The moment our eyes met, we both lost it. Laughter spilled out, filling the quiet lounge with a kind of chaos that felt ridiculously good.

When we finally started to calm down, I wiped a tear from my eye and asked, "Okay, but seriously, why don't you have a shirt on?"

"I hate wearing shirts," he said, leaning back into the couch like he owned the place. "Feels like I'm suffocating."

That took me by surprise. "Huh. I mean, I guess that's... fair?" I said, trying to sound thoughtful as I scrolled through my phone again. "But, like, every shirt? All the time?"

"Yeah," he said casually, grabbing the bag of Takis from the table and crunching on a chip. "They're restrictive. Like, why should I wear a shirt in my own house—or dorm—or, you know, anywhere?"

I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at his completely unbothered expression. "Anywhere?"

"Well, not everywhere," he admitted, grinning as he licked Taki dust off his fingers. "But if I can get away with it? Yeah, shirts are overrated."