a.u.

Chapter Nine: Contact

"Hey," he asked in a somewhat normal tone. "Can I add you on Facebook?"

Alexander seemed almost taken aback by the question. "Oh. Uh, yeah--"

"--I mean, I was just thinking. If nothing happens today and we want to coordinate something for Monday, it might just be easier for me to message you through there. I mean if you're cool with giving that information o--"

"--yeah, no. That's totally fine. Uh, my name's Alexander Cobalt."

Damian started to type the name into the search bar. "Cobalt? Is that your actual real name?"

Alexander frowned. "Uh, yeah, man. Why?"

"That's an element. Like on the periodic table. That's not like an actual name."

"I'm sorry, I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. They kind of gave it to me right after I emerged from the womb so things were still a little fuzzy."

Damian was able to find the profile with ease. "Alright, request sent."

Alexander pulled out his phone from his pocket. "You know, I don't know if I want to accept it after you pissed on my name like that. That's rude, you know that? That was mean and rude." He tapped the screen a couple times. "Ryker? Your name is Ryker?"

"My last name, yeah."

"Damian Ryker isn't a real name. That's a name reserved for action movie protagonists. Or porn stars."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe that's why this crazy shit is happening to us. It's some kind of divine punishment for our ridiculous names."

Alexander laughed out loud at that one. "You know, I think that's the best theory we have going for us at the moment."

"You know," Damian chuckled, "I think it honestly is."

He started scrolling through Alexander's profile. His picture was a selfie of him sitting in the front seat of a car. He wore a buttoned, short sleeve shirt. His glasses were front and center of course. Damian kept scrolling down. There wasn't really anything out of the ordinary there. He had his high school listed, followed by his college. He was an English major at a school that Damian recognized the name of from local advertisements, but he couldn't tell you anything about it. He'd graduated from there this past December.

His relationship status was prominently displayed as single. His taste in music, painfully hipster. His most recent status was complaining about the crazy drivers on the local interstate.

For a total weirdo, Damian noted, he'd done a pretty good job of keeping up a relatively normal public persona.

Alexander looked over his shoulder. "Are you Facebook stalking me?"

"It's not Facebook stalking if you're sitting right next to the person and holding their goddamn hand," he shot back, a joking tone hiding under a deadpan surface.

"Fine," Alexander scoffed. "I'll hop on the train." He reopened his phone to Damian's page. "Oh wow, a picture of you wearing sunglasses on the beach. Could you pick a more generic bro picture?"

"What?" Damian shot back defensively. "I like the beach."

"I could look at this photo and tell you everything there is to know about you."

"Oh yeah?" He said skeptically. "Go for it."

"Alright, I will." Alexander cleared his throat. "Your favorite sport to watch is baseball, but your favorite to play is volleyball."

"That's an easy one. There's a volleyball net in the photo."

"You kept your porn under your mattress growing up."