It's just about noon- the house is calm, which is.. rare, honestly, and Dante thinks it's a great time to just chill and fuck around on his phone. It's a day off, and he's got no plans- why not?
"..ugh," he mutters, sighing as the music blaring from his phone fades out.
He's more than glad no one's here, because the second anyone sees him playing some stupid weeaboo idol game, his life is over forever. He tosses his phone down against the couch, pushing himself to his feet.
Dante trudges into the kitchen, and he's regretting not making any plans with Travis- or really anyone at all, because this is mindnumbingly boring.
He stands in front of the open fridge, gently rocking back and forth on his heels. He can't say he's particularly interested in anything he sees.
Maybe whenever Travis gets home, he'll make something. That's usually the case- he'd start to make something, and end up making two servings of it without even saying anything beforehand.
There's a few more long moments of silence before Dante hears the familiar click of a key in the front door.
Speak of the devil, he thinks, but a small grin weasels its way onto his face as he lets the fridge close.
Travis swings the door open- nothing new, really,- but something's.. off. Dante can't place it until his roommate comes barrelling into the kitchen, looking almost panicked.
"Dante!" he says, as if he didn't just crash through the front door,
"Okay, okay, listen to me." he continues frantically, and Dante isn't really sure what to do except.. stand there.
"Uh, wha-" he manages to start, but he's cut off almost instantly.
"Here-," Travis digs through the pocket of his jacket, whipping out a haphazardly folded slip of notebook paper. He shoves it into Dante's hand without a second thought.
"Take this! I gotta go, if-.. Dante, buddy. Listen to me." His tone shifts to a more serious one, and now it's got Dante a little anxious.
"If I don't come back in.. five minutes, you gotta leave and just- follow the paper as fast as you can, 'kay?"
"Uh, Trav..? What-" he tries to start again, but Travis is booking it for the front door.
"No time! Seeya!" he yells, and then the door is slamming shut behind him.
All Dante can do is stand frozen in place, because he still hasn't entirely processed what the fuck just happened. He glances towards the oven.
1:37. Five minutes.
Dante can't help but be worried- Travis is boisterous and.. a little weird, yeah, but this is straight-up creepy and concerning.
Dante gingerly unfolds the slip of paper, staring down at a set of numbers. Coordinates. It doesn't help to make him any less worried.
"..Jeez." he mumbles, tucking the paper into his pocket. He'd run after Travis, but seeing how fast he just made it from the kitchen to the door, there's no way he'll catch up.
Instead, Dante goes to the couch and picks up his phone to figure out where he's supposed to go.
He quickly plugs the coordinates into Maps, tapping his foot nervously as it loads.
1:39. Three minutes.
It's not far from here, just a few blocks away. Dante's pretty sure there's a building on that corner, but he can't for the life of him remember what it is right now.
He starts to look into it, watching time tick down. Before he knows it, before he can figure out the building, time ticks by fast.
1:41. Just less than a minute, now.
