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[SOMETHING LIGHT]

He sets something amber and fizzy in front of me. I pick it up.

Leo: Smells like... ginger ale?

Chase: Like you said, it's light.

Let's see where this one takes me, then.

There's a picnic table laid out in Chase's parents' yard. There's cheesy music playing on a cheap stereo.

I'm dancing. He's dancing next to me.

This isn't how this happened. The house is supposed to be abandoned and condemned, but it still looks like it did when he lived there. Some of the rest of the gang were here too, but now it's just me and Chase.

Chase: Hey, could you hit the jukebox?

Leo: What do you mean?

Chase: Not you.

This conversation didn't happen.

What the-?

The music changes. It's slower, sadder, old fashioned. Romantic.

I realize that we're still in the bar. We're also still in the yard: the yard is inside the room. The barstools are pulled up to the picnic table. The mirror is hanging on the wall of the house.

We're dancing a lot closer than we did in real life. Slower too.

I guess he must have been talking to the other otter, the heavy set one with the fuck-off expression. He must have changed the music. He's heading from the jukebox over to the picnic table, reaching over it, grabbing a beer.

Chase doesn't stop him.

Guess that's how they pay you for running the jukebox here?

His tail brushes against my leg as the music stops.

Chase: We didn't dance often enough, did we?

Leo: I dragged you to every school dance there was, Chula.

Leo: But no. We didn't.

I'm leaning in to kiss him when I feel something in his pocket vibrate.

And suddenly the bar is just the bar again.

He pulls out his phone. Gives a frustrated grunt. The song the jukebox was playing goes on, heedless.

Chase: Now? Really?

He sighs.

Chase: Ugh. Sorry, I've got to check on something. It's... the job.

He leans in quick, gives me a kiss on the cheek. Like someone would do if they were rushing off to work.

Chase: I'll be right back.

He walks off through the front door.

I don't hear a car start or drive away. But when I glance out the door after him, he's nowhere in sight.

I step back in the bar, unsure of what to do. He said he'd be right back, but what if that was the end of this part of the dream?

???: You two are real different than I remember.

The other otter's talking to me. He's still leaning on the corner of the bar.

???: Like, I'd heard you two had gone all squishy in the pants for eachother, it's just weird seeing it in person.

???: Last I remember we were all just scrappy, snot-nosed kids.

His voice is unsettlingly familiar.

Leo: That... can't be you, Syd.

Leo: Is it?

Sydney looks up and grins. All of him's older and, well, really different, except the eyes. I'd know those eyes anywhere.

Leo: What're you doing here?

Syd: Not fucking much!

Syd: Got no where else to be, though. Cause of that whole thing where I'm dead.

Oh shit.

Leo: Syd, I'm sorry.

Syd: Pfft! I'm over it. It happened a while ago.

Leo: Still, I should have been there. I should have protected you.

Syd: You wouldn't have been able to do shit if you had been there, Leo.

Syd: First off, you would've been busy protecting Toby from me.

What?

Syd: Second, you wouldn't ever in a million years have raised a hand against...

His eyes dart around the room, like he's not sure if he's allowed to spill a secret. They're somehow still bright piercing blue even with the hat brim casting that shadow over his face.

Syd: ...the person that actually killed me.

...what?

Syd: And third, even if you had stopped him, you couldn't have stopped Echo.

Syd: Hell, for all I know it mighta just used you to kill me instead of using him. Same way it was using me to kill Toby.

Leo: What are you saying?

He shrugs.

Syd: How about I'm saying 'No hard feelings?'

Syd: Seriously, it's not even weird. Who hasn't gotten a best friend or a brother or a regular customer or a dad killed, right?

He laughs. I'm deeply confused.

Syd: Honestly, the weird part at first was being the only non-fag around this place.

Syd: Although... who knows? I kinda died before I woulda had a chance to find out.

Syd: I know dad thought I watched enough oiled-up shirtless men grab each other's asses to be mighty suspicious!

Leo: Is your dad...

Leo: ...here?

If I thought he looked grim and fuck-off before it's nothing compared to how he looks now.

Leo: Have you seen him?

Syd: No.

There's an uncomfortable silence.

Syd: Sorry I just said the fag word. Old habits. And I guess I'm sorry for all the racist stuff I used to call you.

Leo: It's... don't worry about it man. I failed you a lot worse.

Syd: That's not true.

Syd: I fuckin explained there's nothing you coulda done that would've saved me. Nothing anyone can do once Echo decides it's got a claim on you.

Syd: But

Syd: There wasn't anything forcing me to call you a beaner or a fag, was there? Just being a dumb kid who didn't know any better.

Syd: So I'm sorry.

Syd: It's not like we aren't gonna have time to-

Chase: Sydney!

I didn't hear Chase come back. He's not surprised to see Sydney, he's just... getting his attention. So he knew that's who this was.

Why didn't he tell me?

Chase: Got something I need someone to keep an eye on. The new guys are coming in.

Chase: I think they're gonna hit your territory first.

Syd grins.

Syd: And I'm just... keeping an eye on them?

Chase: For now.

Syd: Hey, at least it's something to do!

He chugs the rest of his beer, salutes lazily, and heads for the door.

Syd: Be seeing you around, Leo.

And he's gone.

What does that mean?

Leo: Chase, what was that?

Chase: What was what?

Leo: Why was Sydney here? How was Sydney here?!

Chase: Like I said... it's your dream. You tell me.

I'm getting frustrated with having no idea what to say to that.

[SOMETHING... SPICY]

[MY HEAD...]