Chapter 1

Nexus Mapping Sequence

2367 7090– song – Macklemore - LOST/SUN COMES UP

6655 7298 – film – Boyhood (2014)

0012 4302 – song – Nappy Roots – Good Day

* Nexus Mapping Sequence media is provided to support chapter contents.

** Yes, this book comes with extra homework

A violent jolt from the train car sent Ethan crashing into the cold, metal wall. He grunted, steadying himself as the car groaned and lurched again. Instinctively, he tightened his grip around the pregnant woman huddled beside him. He didn’t know her name—didn’t even remember how they’d ended up here—but an unshakable sense of duty told him he had to protect her.

The air inside the car was thick with a damp, metallic tang, and every surface seemed coated in a film of grime. The flickering overhead light threw erratic shadows across the peeling walls, giving the entire space a sickly, unreal glow. Ethan shivered as an eerie, bone-deep chill whispered through the car, raising goosebumps on his arms. Without thinking, he drew the woman closer, hoping his body heat might shield her from the cold—or whatever else lurked in this unsettling place.

The train screeched violently, throwing Ethan off balance and sending him sprawling face-first onto the icy floor. Pain flared through his hands and knees as he scrambled upright. The car’s door had slid open with a grating hiss, revealing an expanse of inky darkness beyond. As Ethan peered outside, his breath caught in his throat.

A monstrous, cloaked figure loomed in the void, its skeletal frame stretching impossibly tall—at least fifteen feet. The creature’s face was grotesque, a patchwork of sickly pale skin, deep shadows, and an almost mechanical hollowness that radiated malice. Ethan was frozen, his pulse hammering in his ears.

The figure stood perfectly still, staring down at him with eyes—or what passed for them—that seemed to pierce through flesh and bone. Ethan stumbled forward involuntarily, his legs betraying him. He hit the ground hard, his palms skidding across the rough terrain as he tried to push himself up.

The creature moved then, its thin, spindly frame gliding toward him with unnerving fluidity. Panic surged through Ethan as he scrambled back, his shoulder blades colliding with the train car’s cold exterior. He tried to scream, to demand an explanation or call for help, but his voice failed him. The only sound was the deafening roar of silence as the figure halted inches away.

Then, it spoke.

“I wonder what celebrities will tweet ‘RIP’ when it’s announced that I’m dead on TMZ,” the ghoul intoned, its voice an uncanny mimicry of Macklemore's. The absurdity of the statement clashed with the nightmare unfolding before Ethan’s eyes, leaving him reeling.

“Bury me with a million likes,” the figure continued, tilting its head with deliberate, jerky movements, “and put me in the algorithm a million times.”

The surreal words jolted Ethan into lucidity. He gasped and bolted upright in his bed, his heart pounding as his alarm clock blared Macklemore’s LOST/SUN COMES UP. The song filled the room, too cheery and bright for the dread still gripping his chest.

“What a messed-up dream,” Ethan muttered, swiping his phone to silence the music. He glanced at the clock and froze.

“I’m going to be late!” he shouted, throwing the covers aside and leaping out of bed.

The bus to Magnolia Bakery crawled through the morning traffic, each stop feeling like an eternity to Ethan Fuller. He checked his phone for the third time, biting back a groan. He hated being late. Worse, he hated feeling powerless about it, especially when the bus driver seemed more focused on ogling women on the sidewalk than keeping to the schedule. As soon as his stop approached, Ethan sprang from his seat, ringing the bell and stumbling out the door before the bus had fully come to a halt.

The familiar warmth of the bakery wrapped around him as he stepped inside, a sharp contrast to the brisk, noisy street. The air was thick with the mingling aromas of freshly baked bread, sugary glaze, and robust coffee—a siren call to anyone passing by. Ethan’s stomach grumbled as he spotted Will already seated at their usual table near the window.

Will was the picture of calm as he sipped his coffee, his broad shoulders relaxed but commanding attention. Ethan had always admired him. At forty-five, the former soldier had maintained the lean, muscular frame that spoke of years of discipline. His deep brown skin showed few signs of aging, and a neatly trimmed beard framed his sharp jawline. Ethan often thought Will looked like someone plucked straight out of a fitness commercial, defying the wear-and-tear life threw at most men his age.

Ethan weaved through the packed bakery, dodging hurried baristas and indecisive customers hovering near the pastry case. The hum of conversation buzzed in the air, a lively backdrop to the clatter of plates and the hiss of steaming milk. Sliding into the seat across from Will, Ethan couldn’t help but take a moment to savor the scents surrounding him. Magnolia Bakery wasn’t just their meeting spot—it was a haven. Their donuts were legendary, pillowy clouds of fried perfection, but it was the coffee, dark and rich, that kept him coming back.

“If you’re not ten minutes early, you’re late,” Ethan teased, shooting Will a wry smile as he settled into his chair.

“Funny, I thought you were on time,” Will countered, raising an eyebrow and tapping his watch with a mock look of disapproval.

“The bus was slow,” Ethan groaned, slumping slightly.

Public transit had been Ethan’s reluctant companion since his car broke down months ago. While he didn’t mind the occasional bus ride, the sluggish pace and constant delays tested his patience. The bus felt like a constant reminder of his stalled life—moving forward but always at someone else’s pace. Worse, he felt a flicker of shame every time he had to explain his reliance on public transport. He longed for the independence a car represented, but for now, he had to make do.

As Will sipped his coffee and eyed him with quiet amusement, Ethan shifted in his seat and inhaled deeply, trying to let the bakery’s familiar comfort wash over him. It was hard to stay annoyed when surrounded by the soothing chaos of Magnolia Bakery and the steady, grounding presence of Will.

"I went ahead and ordered for you," Will said, sliding a steaming cup of coffee across the table. "I went with the usual."

"Thanks," Ethan muttered, slumping slightly in his chair as he tried to collect himself. He felt perpetually flustered these days, like he couldn’t catch his breath no matter how hard he tried. His hair was slightly mussed from the brisk morning wind, and he tugged at the creases in his jacket as though that would somehow restore his composure.

The café buzzed around them with the soft clatter of plates and the hum of muted conversation, but Ethan barely noticed. He was glad to be here with Will—a man who had become more than just a family friend, but a steadfast presence in his life. Still, his thoughts churned relentlessly. The argument with his mother the night before lingered like a storm cloud, heavy and unyielding.

"You didn't go to college, right?" Ethan asked suddenly, his words tumbling out before he could stop them.

Will raised an eyebrow, his expression caught between amusement and curiosity. "Woah, coming out of the gate strong, are we?" he said, setting his coffee cup down with a quiet clink.

"Sorry," Ethan said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I keep thinking about college and whether I made the right choice. My mom's been giving me crap for dropping out, and we had a big fight last night."

"I get it, man," Will said, his tone calm and measured. "But you can't take it so personally. She just wants what's best for you, even if she doesn’t always say it the right way."

A waitress strolled over, balancing a plate of golden, sugar-dusted pastries. She set them down gently between the two men, her smile warm and practiced. As she poured coffee into Ethan's mug, the rich, nutty aroma rose in the air, momentarily cutting through the tension in his chest. Ethan gave her a polite nod and turned his attention to preparing his coffee, carefully stirring in creamer and sugar as though the ritual might help steady his nerves.

Will waited patiently, watching Ethan fiddle with the mug before he continued. "To answer your question—no, I didn’t go to college. Not at first, anyway. I ended up getting my degree while I was in the service."

Ethan looked up, his brow furrowed slightly. He hadn’t expected that. Will always seemed so sure of himself, so put together, that it was hard to imagine him ever struggling with uncertainty.

"Did your mom give you a hard time when you didn’t go to college and joined the army?" Ethan asked, his voice tentative but curious.

"Oh, yeah," Will said with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair. "And not just verbally, either. My mom literally beat my butt when I told her I’d signed up. She was furious." His smile faded slightly, and his gaze grew distant. "But I didn’t care. It’s what I wanted, and the day after high school graduation, I was at the recruiter’s office signing the papers."

Ethan nodded slowly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Oh," he said, his voice soft with a twinge of guilt. His mom’s yelling last night had been intense, but compared to what Will had faced, it felt small.

Will leaned forward, his warm, steady presence drawing Ethan back into the moment. "Look, man, you did the right thing," he said, his voice calm but firm. "College isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay."

"I want to go to college," Ethan interjected quickly. "I just don’t know what I want to be. I don’t want to waste time—or money—trying to figure it out." He looked down at his coffee, his reflection rippling slightly as he tapped the edge of the table.

"That’s fair," Will replied with a nod. His tone carried no judgment, only understanding.

A lull settled between them as they turned their attention to their food. Ethan broke off a piece of his pastry, the sugary glaze sticking to his fingertips as he popped it into his mouth. The buttery sweetness melted on his tongue, but it did little to quiet the restless thoughts in his head.

He glanced at Will, who sipped his coffee with the ease of someone who had learned to take life one moment at a time. The steady flow of people in and out of the bakery created a quiet rhythm, the soft murmur of conversations and the occasional clang of dishes filling the air.

Ethan loved this place—loved these moments with Will. Since his dad’s death in Iraq, Will had become a rock in his life. He wasn’t just a family friend; he was someone Ethan could trust completely, one of the few people who truly understood him.

"So," Will said, breaking the silence and giving Ethan a sidelong glance, "the first day on the job."

"Yep," Ethan blurted out, straightening in his chair. His tone was clipped, almost defensive, and he reached for his coffee, using it as a shield.

Ethan knew he had to do something after his second semester of community college imploded spectacularly. Dropping out felt like both a relief and a failure. He didn’t want to keep wasting time and energy floundering through classes that didn’t inspire him, but he also couldn’t shake the nagging sense that he was aimless. His friends, sensing his frustration, had helped him land a job doing data entry at a local manufacturing company. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was something.

"Not excited about it?" Will asked, watching Ethan stir his coffee absently.

"Not really," Ethan admitted, shrugging. "It’s menial work. A monkey could do it." He traced a finger around the rim of his cup, avoiding Will’s gaze.

"Well, if it helps, I hate my new job," Will replied, his tone light but tinged with genuine weariness.

After twenty steadfast years in the US Army, Will had retired the moment he was eligible. He’d never intended to make a career of it, but life had a way of keeping him in places longer than he’d planned. The Army had been good to him, but the minute he had an out, he took it. Civvy life, however, wasn’t everything he’d hoped for.

"What are you doing again?" Ethan asked, snapping out of his reverie.

"A security consultant for a data firm downtown," Will said, his words heavy with disinterest.

"Sounds exciting," Ethan teased, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, it is," Will said dryly, rolling his eyes. "Thrilling stuff. Endless rows of cubicles and the monotony of small talk. It’s soul-sucking, really."

"So why do it?" Ethan asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

"I need to do something," Will said simply, a faint shrug accompanying the words. "I’ve got bills to pay."

"Yeah, but why do something you hate?" Ethan pressed. "Why not find something you actually like?"

Will leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. "Because life isn’t always about what you like, kid. Sometimes you just do what you have to."

Ethan frowned, setting his half-eaten pastry down. He turned to the window, watching the city stir to life. People bustled down the sidewalks, cars honked in the distance, and the day was already off to a chaotic start. His reflection in the glass looked just as lost as he felt.

Will watched him carefully, setting his own donut aside. He could sense Ethan was spiraling, searching for clarity in a storm of doubts.

"Look," Will said gently, "you feel like you need all the answers right now, don’t you?"

"I don’t need all the answers," Ethan said, cutting him off. "Just one."

Will raised an eyebrow. "What’s that?"

"What am I supposed to do in this screwed-up world?" Ethan asked, his voice rising slightly with frustration. "How can I think about my future when it feels like the world is going to burn up by the time I’m thirty?"

"You still need to try," Will said firmly, his voice steady and grounding.

Ethan sighed. "I feel so much pressure from everyone—from everywhere. It’s like I’m supposed to save the world, and I can’t even figure out my own life."

"Don’t beat yourself up," Will replied. "You don’t need to save the world. You just need to save the day. Focus on what’s in front of you, not everything all at once."

The words hit Ethan like a balm. He had been so caught up in trying to solve every problem that he had forgotten how to just exist, one moment at a time. He realized his mom had said something similar during their fight the night before—a fight he’d ignored in his stubbornness.

"Thanks," Ethan said after a long sip of coffee. "I feel better after talking to you. I just wish it was this easy with my mom."

"Cut her some slack," Will said, his tone softening. "She’s doing the best she can. Raising two teenagers isn’t exactly a walk in the park."

"Yeah, you’re right," Ethan admitted, sighing again.

"You know I’m right," Will said with a knowing smile. "Your dad was the same way, you know."

"Really?" Ethan asked, surprise lighting up his features.

"Yeah," Will said, leaning forward slightly. "He hated school. Barely made it through high school, and just like you, he dropped out of college after a year. Before he joined the Army, he spent a lot of time figuring out who he was and what he wanted."

"Interesting," Ethan said quietly, the storm in his mind beginning to settle.

For the first time in a while, Ethan felt a flicker of peace. Maybe he didn’t have to have everything figured out today. Maybe he just had to focus on saving this one day.

Ethan’s dad had died when he was just five years old. The memories were fleeting—snatches of laughter, a strong hand guiding his small one, the vague outline of a face. Most of what he knew about his father came from stories told by his mom or Will, and for years, the absence had left a raw, simmering anger inside him. Why wasn’t his dad there when he needed him most? Only recently had Ethan allowed himself to explore that void, to acknowledge the curiosity buried beneath the resentment.

They had both finished their coffee, the cups now empty save for a few dark drops clinging to the bottoms. Crumbs dotted their plates, which they absently pushed around with their fingers as the conversation lulled. Ethan hesitated to leave, not wanting to cut the moment short. Being here with Will always felt grounding, a safe harbor in the chaos of his mind. But the thought of his new job loomed, and he knew he couldn’t put it off much longer.

"I actually have something for you," Will said suddenly, breaking the silence. He reached into his bag, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a small silver device.

Ethan raised an eyebrow as Will handed it to him. He turned it over in his hands, feeling its surprising weight and smooth metal casing. It took him a moment to realize what he was holding.

"Is this an iPod?" Ethan asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. He’d only ever seen these in old tech videos online, a relic of another era.

"That," Will said with a faint smile, "is life. Or at least, it was life for your dad. He didn’t go anywhere without it. Every mission, every moment he could, he was listening to something on that thing. Before he died, he told me I should give it to you when the time was right."

"Really?" Ethan asked, his fingers running over the smooth edges of the device. "How did you know the time was right?"

"He said I’d just know," Will replied, his tone softening. "And when I saw you today, I figured this was it. You’re at a crossroads, kid. You’re searching. I think he knew this would be the kind of moment you’d need it."

Ethan stared down at the iPod, unsure what to feel. The idea of holding something his father had touched so often, something so deeply personal, was almost overwhelming.

"I know you don’t want to hear it," Will continued, his voice lightening, "but you’re so much like him. It trips me out every time I see you now. You look just like him—good-looking and extremely stubborn."

Ethan smirked, his lips twitching into a small grin. "You think I’m good-looking?" he joked.

"You know what I mean," Will said, shaking his head but smiling.

Ethan flipped the iPod over, his thumb brushing against the back. He froze when he noticed an inscription etched into the metal: Come back home to me, love Valerie.

"Who’s Valerie?" Ethan asked, narrowing his eyes. He knew it wasn’t his mom’s name, and the question hung heavy in the air.

Will hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he chuckled. "Oh, ha, that’s a story for another time," he said quickly, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Ethan looked up, curiosity prickling at him, but he let it go—for now.

"I’ve gotta run," Will said. "I’d offer you a ride, but I know you’d just turn me down."

"You may need to pay the bills," Ethan replied as he stood. "I need to save up for a new car."

"I get it," Will said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good luck today, kid. Hope your first day isn’t too bad."

"Hope the cubicles don’t drive you insane," Ethan shot back with a grin. "Enjoy your new prison cell."

They both laughed as they left the bakery together, stepping into the morning sunlight. As Ethan walked toward his stop, he watched his bus pull away, just missing it by seconds. He thought about calling after Will, asking for a ride after all, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Stubbornness won out again.

He settled onto the bench to wait for the next bus, turning the iPod over in his hands. It felt like a piece of his father had been returned to him, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel so lost.