Page 60 of If the World Was Ending

“You’ll be in bed by ten, with or without a cat, or me,” Hunter argued softly. She missed her son. He understood that. And he was happy to see her, but she’d be in bed in the next two hours, and he’d planned this visit because of the band, not that he would admit that to her. “And I have no plans tomorrow night. Why don’t I take you out to your favorite restaurant? Is it still Baton Rouge?”

She smiled. “Yes. I love that place.”

“Okay, tomorrow when you’re done with work, we’ll go to Baton Rouge. My treat.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to pay, honey. I’m fully capable of buying my kid dinner.”

“Yeah, but now I’m capable of buying my mom dinner. So let me.” He stepped up beside her, smiling, and hugged her. She hugged him back.

“Who is this band that you just have to see?”

“Tidal. My roommate is in it,” Hunter said, and his mom looked confused.

“Leandra? Your ex? Are you back together?” He was both shocked and uncomfortable at how her brown eyes lit up at the idea.

“No. Colby Keaton. He moved in after Leandra cheated on me, remember?” His mom’s eyebrows pinched.

“Oh, the boy who had a tree fall on him?”

“On his van, yeah. Anyway, I haven’t seen him in forever because his band has been on tour and I’ve been filming, so I just thought, since we’re both in Montreal, I would surprise him,” Hunter explained.

His mother nodded, somehow feeling a bit better about the whole thing. He kissed her cheek, which always made her happy. “I’ll be home late, so don’t wait up. Or freak out.”

Hunter walked to the front hall and grabbed his wallet and keys off the small console table there. His mom followed, and her brow furrowed again. “Mom. I’m twenty-six.”

“You are not. You’re twenty-five.”

“My birthday is in two weeks. I’m trying to get used to it.” Hunter smiled cheekily, and his mother caved.

“Fine. Be careful. The city is crazy at night.” She stood at the door and waved. “Baton Rouge tomorrow! I get off work at six!”

“See you then!” Hunter called from the stairs because he was already making his way down the circular steps of her second-floor Westmount apartment.

He walked swiftly through the upscale neighborhood and was proud of himself for only having to check Google Maps once. Hunter didn’t grow up in the swanky two-bedroom apartment his mom lived in now. He’d grown up in a nice townhouse in the suburbs, in a little town called Beaconsfield just west of Montreal, where his dad was Mayor. Hunter had begged his mom to move downtown when he was in high school because there was a performing arts school there he desperately wanted to attend, but she’d refused. Now, looking back, he knew it was because she didn’t want to take him away from his father.

Greg needed to be in Beaconsfield, and Catherine thought her son needed his father. As soon as Hunter left to take acting at UCLA Extension, she moved downtown. Because she didn’t need to be anywhere near Greg and his new wife Giselle or their child, Hunter’s half-brother Francois.

It was a quick metro ride to the venue, but it felt like it took forever because Hunter’s nervous system was short-circuiting at the thought of seeing Colby again and surprising him. After their failed attempt at hanging out in Boston, their communication had broken down a little. They still texted and FaceTimed occasionally, but it was getting painful to see his face without being in the same room with him. At least it was for Hunter.

Hunter’s second big film experience hadn’t been as enjoyable as the first. The director wasn’t warm like Eugenie had been. His co-stars had already been filming together for two weeks when he showed up, and no one made the effort to make him feel welcome. He spent a lot of time alone, even on set with his costars around. No one wanted to hang out like Mikayla had, and no one offered up tips and tricks to the industry like Chris had. His direct costar, Alyssa, was polite and professional but not much else. He thought he had done well in the role, but it was a relief when it was over. He’d flown straight from Atlanta to Montreal, unwilling to walk back into his apartment knowing Colby still wouldn’t be there.

His mom had been complaining that she missed her only child since he bailed on Thanksgiving months ago. And once Hunter realized Colby’s tour would be in Montreal, it was a no-brainer. Except when he got to the venue, there was a line around the block and a sign at the ticket window that said SOLD OUT in big black letters.

“Fuck,” Hunter hissed as he stood on the sidewalk. It was winter, and it was freezing. The snow crunched under his boots as he mourned the surprise reaction he’d been fantasizing about. In his head, he’d imagined buying a ticket, getting into the venue, and making his way to the front of the stage. Colby’s band would come on, and he’d see Hunter and smile that big, bright, infectious grin of his that made his dimple pop. Then they’d reunite backstage after the show and hang out all night, just the two of them, and Colby would smile the whole time and be delighted that Hunter surprised him, and they would go back to Colby’s hotel…

“Fuck,” Hunter whispered to himself again and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Hey. I’m here. In Montreal.

There was a huge possibility that Colby wasn’t even near his phone. Hunter knew he would give it to Ford to hold or turn it off before a gig so he could get focused. So Hunter was frustrated but not surprised when there wasn’t an immediate response.

I’m trying to come to the show, but it’s sold out.

He should probably go to a restaurant or bar nearby and wait until he heard back so he didn’t get frostbite. Winter was fucking horrible in Montreal. Please answer. Please answer. Come on, Colby he chanted in his head. He had one other option. He could text Ford.

He gritted his teeth, scrolled through his contacts, and found the one titled FuckFace because that’s what Hunter had changed Ford’s number to a few months ago.

Hey it’s Hunter. I’m outside the Montreal venue. Colb isn’t answering his phone.