See You at Seven [Shayne Topp]

4. Of Fights and Footages

Hey! How are you guys doing?

I hope your country's doing well from the coronavirus. Here in the Philippines, not only is there a war against the disease; there is also a war on social media. There are so many trolls everywhere.

Anyway, stay safe, okay? See ya!

-/-/-

"Concrete jungle wet dream tomato," I say as we ride a cab crossing the Empire State Building.

"Concrete jungle where dreams are made of," Alex corrects me.

After a lengthy flight to New York, Team Terrible is finally on our way to Alex's apartment. 47th and Amsterdam didn't sound like a real place, but apparently, it is, because we're headed there now. Damien and Ian are talking about how it feels different to be in New York for something other than work, Courtney's busy playing something on her phone, and Alex is speaking with her gun guy, who seems to have replicated the guns perfectly and even got us temporary bullets. I wasn't comfortable having to learn how to use a gun, but I keep telling myself that it was going to be for everyone's sake.

Well, of course, I didn't plan on shooting anyone innocent, but even in video games, it happens.

When we arrive at the mythical 47th and Amsterdam, it's everything we couldn't imagine: it was cozy yet sleek, large but homey. I always thought Alex's house was made out of spikes and swords or whatever, but this is a brand new take. There are paintings everywhere and five bookshelves filled with books. There's a whole area for just studying law, and there's also a whole office area. This looks like a real dream.

"Make yourselves at home," Alex says as she immediately heads to the kitchen. "The gun guy will be here in a bit, I'll just be doing something. He's a nice guy, so don't feel threatened or anything."

When she leaves for the kitchen, the four of us look among ourselves. "I'm not getting those guns," Ian declares, raising his hands in the air.

"Me neither," Courtney says. "Shayne, you should do it. You're the leader."

"Nah, we can always wait for Alex," Damien retorts. "But if she tells us to go get it, well, go for it, Shayne."

"She said he was a nice guy, so I don't see what's the problem with that," I tell them.

"You'll pick up guns," Ian says.

"Okay, I do see it. It's bad."

The doorbell rings, and I take a deep breath before opening the door. In front of me is a man probably my height with four boxes of guns and he's wearing a cap. "You with Atty. McConnell?" he asks, signing a form on his clipboard.

"Yep, she's in the kitchen right now," I answer, pointing at the kitchen. He hands me the clipboard and gets me to sign that I claimed the guns. He then helps me carry the four boxes onto the coffee table before shaking hands with me and leaving. When he's gone, the four of us are completely frozen. "Well, that went easier than I expected."

We check out the guns. Pretty similar to the afterlife guns, and the temporary bullets are probably just ordinary ones in the shape of the afterlife bullets. We put them back in their boxes and look at them, leaning back in our seats. Alex comes out of the kitchen and serves us cups of coffee with lasagna. "Oh, don't worry. That's not old lasagna," she says. "If you guys feel a bit jetlagged, go check out the cabinet in the bathroom for some medicine or anything. I only have one vacant room, so the three guys could stay there. Courtney, is it okay with you staying with me in my room?"

"Sure!" Courtney replies, raising a thumb up. "Need a hand on anything?"

"Yeah, I could use some help in unpacking," she answers, and they proceed to the bedroom with their stuff. We go to our vacant room, which has one queen-sized bed that probably doesn't fit all of us but somehow we fit.