Chapter 1: Introduction
The clock on my wall read 7:00 PM. I’d invited Range over at 8:00, so he’d be here in an hour. A friend introduced us a month ago, and we got along pretty well. I was looking forward to spending the evening with him. We had some stuff in common, like our taste in music and art.
I had some beer and a six-pack of cider in the fridge - Range was more into fruity-flavored drinks - and a playlist ready.
I made sure my apartment was presentable, just a little. You know, dishes cleaned and a quick vacuum to freshen up the place. It’s cozy, and I'm not embarrassed to let someone see it; it’s just that I didn't want Range to think I was a total slob.
Right on time, there was a knock on the door. I opened it with a grin to find Range standing there, wearing a black leather jacket over a white tee, sunglasses resting on his short dark hair.
He flashed a grin, and my breath caught as I took him in.
"Hey, Jackson," he greeted me, his voice just as smooth as I remembered. "Hope I'm not late."
I stepped aside, shaking my head. "No, not at all. Come on in." As he brushed past me, our hands briefly touched, and I felt a jolt of electricity. Get it together, man, I chided myself silently.
Range's gaze swept around the living room, which was filled with paintings, stacks of CDs, and shelves of comic books.
"Nice place," he commented, setting his helmet down on the coffee table.
"Thanks," I replied, my eyes lingering on Range's handsome face. "Make yourself at home. I've got drinks in the fridge and some tunes lined up."
We spent the first hour of the evening catching up on each other's lives and exploring our musical taste. The vibe between us softened, and our laughter seemed to echo through the room every few minutes.
I noticed Range's gaze lingering over my comic book collection, and I couldn't help but smirk.
"Like what you see?" I asked, handing him an open bottle of cider.
His eyes darted up, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks as he took it from me. "Just trying to figure out what kind of a nerd you are."
Chuckling, I gestured to the shelf behind him. "I've got everything; you name it.
Marvel, DC, indie publishers, art books, and even manga." I moved to sit on the couch, patting the spot next to me. "See something you like?"
Range glanced at me, his gaze heated, before focusing back on the shelves. After a moment, he traced a finger over a worn-out copy of the Sandman comics. "I love Gaiman's work," he admitted.
Our fingers brushed against the spines as he slid the comic out to look at it more closely.
I couldn't help but notice the small spark I felt at our touch, and my heart did a little flutter. I quickly tried to cover it up with casual conversation.
"Yeah, it's an old favorite of mine. I've had it for years." My voice might have been a little shaky, but Range didn't seem to notice. We continued chatting about our shared love for some lesser-known writers, and I found myself feeling more comfortable around him.
As we talked, I realized that we had more than just a few shared interests.
Not only did we both appreciate similar music and art, but we also had a passion for exploring offbeat stories and exploring the creative process. Our conversation flowed effortlessly from comics and series to books and even personal aspirations.
I discovered that Range had recently started writing as a hobby, pouring his thoughts into stories and sharing them online to positive reception. It was endearing to hear his excitement when recounting the responses from total strangers who resonated with his words.