Part 3The Grayed-Out Profile

That night, I drifted aimlessly through the city.

I was exhausted. I floated back to my apartment.

A light was on. Strange.

It was Sarah. My best friend.

She had a bucket of water and was cleaning my apartment. My old phone was on the table, plugged in.

She worked in silence. My eyes burned.

Suddenly, my phone buzAzed.

She put down the mop and picked it up. It was the class group chat.

“Mr. Chase, what’s the exact date for the wedding? And where’s the venue?”

Someone else posted a photo from the party. Harrison and his fiancée, Tessa, sitting together.

“Look at them! A perfect match. So beautiful.”

“A thousand times better than someone we know. All looks, no substance.”

Thud.

Sarah’s hand trembled, and the phone fell to the floor. She slowly sank to her knees, covered her face, and started to sob.

She opened my photo album, her fingers tracing my smiling face.

“You idiot,” she whispered. “He’s getting married. Did you know? And you… you were whispering his name right up until the end.”

Sarah turned off the phone and went back to cleaning.

When she left, she took my phone with her.

I didn't understand.

I followed her back to her apartment. Being alone in that empty place was unbearable. The only thing I looked forward to was Sarah visiting once a month, charging my phone.

When it lit up with notifications, I could read them.

It was my only connection. My only entertainment, now that I was dead.