Chapter 8
- Xander Jade
- 1d
- 7 min read
Patrick checked the time again, even though nothing had changed in the ninety seconds since he last checked. The numbers glowed blue and unsentimental on his phone, the digits a countdown to what he had convinced himself would be a small-scale social Armageddon. He stood in the middle of his bedroom, a single sock on his left foot, suitcase open on the bed like an unmade grave. He’d spent the better part of the morning unpacking and repacking the same four shirts, each iteration yielding a new, slightly more desperate arrangement.
