Glimpse

Chapter 21: Shayne

"Wait, wait, wait, why are we doing this over the phone again?" Damien asked, his voice crackling through Shayne's Bluetooth headphones. Shayne almost missed it, the roar of the subway scraping against metal tracks deafening the world.

Blue eyes flitted over the cart as Shayne propped himself against the front-end of the train wagon. Laminated advertisements paneled the upper walls. An eye-mangling pattern upholstered cheap, plastic seats that bordered the long, metal tube's perimeter. People from all walks of life occupied them, either lost in their conversations or buried in their phones. Other, less fortunate passengers struggled to remain upright, clinging to floor-to-ceiling poles that dotted the midline.

Someone pounded on the wall dividing the carts, harsh slams that vibrated up Shayne's back and into his teeth.

Cracking his neck, Shayne drowned the irritation with air. Thin patience underlined the theme of his past week, the puniest things biting at his nerves. The lingering strain of subduing Alternate Shayne's unsettling urges only amplified this newfound tendency. Teeth grating, Shayne shuffled to face the disturbance.

His palm slapped his face, thumb and pointer hooking into skin and dragging.

A smirking Damien saluted him through the windowpane, blotches of grime obscuring his wide, brown eyes and raised brows. Fists clenched, Shayne restrained himself from hammering the glass.

"Courtney figuring out how to force a Glimpse is a pretty big development, don't you think? Like something we should maybe be talking about face to face, without a pane of glass separating us?" Damien cocked his head, knuckles rapping on the glass to drive his point home.

"I don't feel like getting arrested when Alternate Shayne decides to punch you, okay?" Shayne cupped his mouth, eyes darting around for eavesdroppers. Though between the chaos of voices and the idiot blasting music from his boom box, he doubted anyone could overhear his brash whispering.

"Right, so then why am I here again?"

"I need help picking out a gift, okay? I kinda fucked up last week. Plus, you want to be updated on the Glimpse situation, right?" Shayne pressed his lips into a straight line. Truth be told, he had considered hosting this call in his apartment. In the end, he had concluded Damien would just invite himself over, and having Alternate Shayne and Damien in such close proximity screamed of disaster.

Without warning, the train lurched to a standstill, the abrupt change in momentum propelling Shayne into rust coated metal. His face smashed against the window, cheek squishing into a round disk that crushed his eye. Extracting himself, Shayne rubbed the back of his neck, mouth twitching as Damien gripped his stomach and laughed.

That twat better watch who he's laughing at.

"Little Tokyo." A robotic voice announcing their station prevented him from responding to Alternate Shayne.

Shayne to scurried towards the hoard of people gathered at the exit.

Sliding doors screeched open, and a handful of riders piled out, scattering the streetside platform. Rubber soles smacked against grey cement, Shayne jumping from the subway carriage to stand a few feet away from the yellow line.

"Over here," Damien said.

Glancing to his right, Shayne spied his best friend waving at him. His stomach clenched.

Wind lashed Shayne's back as the train sped off in a blur of motion, streaks of grey licking his peripheral vision. Shayne swallowed. Nerves on fire. The gap separating them elongated. Everything stretched, an unmoving Damien pulling away from him until he became just a speck, the centerpiece in a tunnel of lines. A hallucination. A reminder of his slipping grasp on reality.