Their Friday night movie, playing on Lucy’s living room’s large and bright 4K TV, was the Lego Movie sequel. She was seeing it for the first time, Wes having been the one to take Jace to it last year. The boys were busy with their own things, though. The younger was on his iPhone and checking out all his social media sites, and the older was skimming photo albums, under the small lamp by the couch. He turned a page to see his eighth birthday party at his and Lucy’s dad’s house, all of his old friends in attendance.

“Am I the only one watching at this point?” Lucy complained from the middle.

“Seen it already, Mom,” Jace replied. “I’ll look up for the good parts.”

Lucy peered over and saw Wes looking at one 4x6 memory after the next longingly. For all the troubles Jace was facing, Lucy knew he would likely grow out of them. But her brother had only gotten more obsessed with the mythos of his childhood over the last five years, and he seemed to have little motivation to enjoy the present.

“You know, Wes, if you wanted to keep a few of the albums at your place, I already have more than enough. You… really seem to like the ’95 and ’96 ones.”

“They’re safer here. I don’t want to keep anything really important at my crappy apartment. You have the ‘heir,’ so… you can, like, be the keeper of the family legacy.”

Jace suddenly leaned across his mom to see what Wes was gazing at so solemnly and commented about a photograph, “Wow, you and your friends look like dorks.”

Lucy chided him, “Hey, not nice. Those were his best buddies. He misses them.”

Jace returned to his spot, got back onto Twitter or whatever shallow social medium that was wasting his time, and uncaringly replied, “So get new friends for this decade. Not like the 90s are coming back, or were that great anyway.”

Wes slammed the album shut and glared at his nephew. He thought of what to say: whether to defend his friends, or tell him how hard it could be to stay a functional adult day after day, or if he should just insult him right back. But none of it was worth it. Right now, as sad a thing as it was, he only wanted to go home and get away from Jace, his own family. He put the album away, got up, and took out his keys.

“Come on, Wes, don’t leave angry,” Lucy said with a plaintive groan.

“I have… things to do anyway. So… good night.”

Before he left through the door, Jace gave him one last look. It wasn’t at all one of remorse. As much as Wes hated the idea, the kid may have already been a lost cause.

• •

The first thing Wes thought about when he walked into his messy apartment that night, was if now was a good time to take up drinking in a professional way. He didn’t want to waste money on booze, but at the same time, he knew he was a good candidate for the kind of person that drank to forget, or to just let time go by.

All he really had in his fridge, other than leftover pizza and Chinese food, were a few glass bottle sodas. He cracked one open, took a sip, and glanced at his pantry’s bright red door, which had always stood out and was oddly heavy.

He connected his iPhone to his speaker system and before tossing it onto his couch, selected the track Blade Runner Blues, from one of his favorite movies. Given his current place on life’s road, the soft-synth-jazz music from a neo-noir cyber punk classic filled with the feelings of loneliness and nostalgia had become a fitting soundtrack.

As it filled the room, he went to his window and while sipping soda, gazed out at Royal Valley’s nightscape, its old colorful neon lights and its newer, cold LEDs hitting the rain-soaked streets of a city in which he had perhaps long ago already dwelled too long. He knew he should leave home and start a new life like most of his friends, but he just couldn’t. He clutched at the past tightly, spending every day hoping to feel a faint breeze of so many golden days gone by waft over his face. Why stop now?

His typical Friday night then commenced. He picked up the newest big Nintendo Switch game he had bought a week ago, but still had yet to play. He wanted to. It was online and he could even compete with Jace, regardless of how much he’d make the kid yell at the other end. But he still couldn’t find the motivation—not even enough to remove the plastic wrap. The first long night with any new video game was once an almost magical occasion. Now it was nothing special, if it happened at all.

Instead, he again chose to just watch his favorite Twitch streamer continue his run of it. He finished his Coke among funny commentary and hundreds of responses a minute from the viewers via the chat box. Afterwards, he tried playing his SNES Classic on his big TV—hacked, of course, loaded with many more games than the two dozen or so Nintendo put onboard. But not even the pixel art, music, and action of Super Metroid could hold his attention for long, so it became yet another night of nothing but internet.

He didn’t much like Facebook, but kept his profile up for a single reason: just in case any old friends decided to seek him out and reconnect. Maybe they would one day.

There was also someone on it that he used the platform to chat with, usually on a weekly basis. Before he could get into much of a conversation, his phone rang.

“Hi, Mom,” he said with a sigh and leaned back in his chair as he kept typing.

“Oh, Wessy…” She sounded a little sad. “We haven’t talked in a while…”

Wes opened a new tab to check how his stocks had done over the week and tiredly replied, “Not since last Saturday, I think. I know. Long time.”

“How are things going down there? Still the same old Royal Valley? Hey, I’m going to visit sometime soon. Is everything okay with you?”

“Sure, Mom. Couldn’t be better,” he lied, and felt like Bruce Willis talking to his mom in The Fifth Element. “Did Lucy ask you to call? Is she all worried again?”

“Why would she be worried? Can’t I just call you for a chat?”

“She’s done this before, and then you call with your concerned voice.”

“This is not my concerned voice. I only wanted… Okay, she did ask me to talk to you. Honey, it’s great that you’re visiting Lucy often and spending time with your nephew, but they want to see you succeed, too. You know that, don’t you?”

“Mom, please, I don’t need a life lesson right now. I had a lousy day. I’m going to have a lousy weekend. And then I’m sure I’m going to have a lousy rest of my life.”

After a moment she replied, “Remember when I took you to Groundhog Day?”

“Sure. Great movie. And you had a crush on Bill Murray back then.”

“Well, yes, and I’m sure you’ve watched it many times since—but do you know the actual moral of the story? Why even Buddhist monks revere that romantic comedy?”

“For some deeply philosophical or state of higher being reason, I’m sure.”

“It’s so much simpler than that. Phil kept experiencing the same day over and over, and it went from being his worst one ever to his best. It was always the same day for everyone else, but he changed his outlook and put in a little effort, and…”

“But Phil had the advantage of knowing how the day went. I never know how crappy a new day will be, so I don’t get a chance to prepare and make the right choices.”

“No, you missed the point I was trying… Wes, I’m coming down to see you. I can be there Sunday. We’ll get some lunch, and then talk about some things.”

“You don’t need to. And you know you can’t keep your dog at my place.”

“Oh, she’s a tiny thing, she won’t bother anyone.”

“They’ll kick me out of here, Mom. Is that how you want to help me? Besides, I probably have to work Sunday. Just… wait until Thanksgiving, okay?”

“Okay. But I still want to talk to you again soon. Please, don’t give up on Jace, even if he’s a little troublesome right now. Those phases don’t last.”

“He thinks I’m a loser, Mom, and besides… we’re barely related. I’m not ‘good uncle’ material. I’m just an annoyance. Lucy can raise him without me being around.”

“Don’t say things like that. You can’t turn your back on family. I want you and Jace to have a good and lasting friendship. He does need you, and…”

Wes put his phone on his desk, face up, so her voice was just barely audible. He knew she would talk for at least another five minutes but didn’t have the heart to hang up. As she rambled, he read over the last few messages he had shared with an old friend.

Wes: Yeah. Facebook’s going the way of MySpace probably. Who knew people would care so much about every aspect of their lives being sold off, right?

Sadie: I know a lot of people that dropped it or still use it but hate it. I just don’t want to lose all of my friends, you know? I found so many old ones from school. And two of them I even dated and then dumped. So I guess FB still has its uses (sad haha).

Wes: There will be something new in a few years that everyone’s on. Just got to wait for all the classmates and old buds to sign up so we can pretend we’re still close.

Sadie: You’ve become such a cynic. Do you mean that about us, with sarcasm?

Wes: I mean everyone, all of us. Still, this is all the two of us got left, really. AIM is RIP and email is just kind of too formal, sorta? I mean, we chat a few minutes a week. That’s cool and all I ask. None of the others do. They disappeared.

Sadie: Right, except for Jared who I bet you wish would disappear. Hold on BRB.

He assumed that she was back now after five minutes or so, and with his mom still trying to be his life coach from a hundred miles away, he got back to typing.

Wes: Ever wonder about the purpose of childhood friends? We make them because we want buddies when we’re young. Our interests hardly matter. Then we grow up and seek out friends who do share our interests, and all the old ones… poof.

Sadie: Not all of them. Try reaching out. I’m sure at least Arty or Colin will reply.

Wes: I feel like if they actually cared, they would have done it first.

Sadie: Cheer up, Wes. They’re still out there. They’ll talk to you.

Sadie: Maybe we’ll even have a reunion one day. Gotta go. Night.

Wes picked his phone back up. His mom had just finished—yet feeling lonely as he often did late at night, he honestly wouldn’t mind talking to her for a little longer. But she had a Turner Classic movie coming up, and soon wished him a good night as well.

He went to bed and thought as he fell asleep that, maybe, it was finally time to let his past die. After all, hadn’t his childhood already ended long ago? On that horrible night when he heard the news? Even now, so many years later, the last face he usually visualized just before entering dreamland was that of a dorky, funny, bespectacled girl.

Ash. Ash Teller… The one left behind…