J'onn arrived at The Cornerstone, and before he even reached the bar, Tom the bartender started to pour his ginger ale.
"The group is running late tonight," Tom said.
J'onn nodded and took his drink before sitting down at the main table. He checked his phone and read the message Kira had sent him.
"Made dinner, pasta. Not burnt, for the most part."
"Save me some. I'll be home by ten," typed J'onn with a smile.
"It'll be cold."
"I don't mind."
"Weirdo."
J'onn chuckled and then put his phone away, sitting with his ginger ale. One month ago he would have sat alone in his corner booth, but now he sat down, waiting for his friends.
It felt like a new world to J'onn. Now he had people who would save him a chair. He was part of the group.
"You're early," said Marcus.
"I'm on time. You're early. I usually arrive around 7:00," replied J'onn.
"Huh, very formal of you," replied Marcus.
"Maybe you should learn a thing or two," replied J'onn.
"Woah, calm down, big guy... It's nice seeing you like this, a little more... loose," replied Marcus with a smile, flagging Tom for a beer.
"Is that good or bad?"
"Very good. It's nice to see you more relaxed. It seems like you're officially one of us now," answered Marcus, accepting his beer.
"I certainly feel like it."
"Anyway, how's your niece doing?" asked Marcus, taking a sip.
"She's doing really well. It's nice to see her more happy," replied J'onn.
David and Jessica arrived a few minutes later and started talking about their plans for the weekend and the pain and misery of their jobs. Sarah arrived around ten minutes later.
J'onn noticed something. Her eyes were red, and her smile seemed more forced, like she was trying to hide a sadness, but J'onn could see through it. She sat down and joined in the conversation.
J'onn gave her some time and waited. He didn't push or ask. Twenty minutes into the evening there seemed to be a gap.
"Bad week?" J'onn asked, looking at Sarah.
"That obvious?" Sarah laughed.
""To me, I'm not sure the others have noticed."
"Good. I don't want to... My mother. She's been... it's complicated. Nothing dramatic or anything like that, just... family stuff," Sarah replied, looking at her drink.
"Do you want to talk about it or would you rather have a distraction?" asked J'onn.
"Let's just... talk. If that's okay," Sarah replied.
"Fine by me."
"She called me by my sister's name last week, except she's been dead for over three years now. I just... I didn't know what to do. Do I correct her? Do I go along with it? Do I... Sorry. This is a lot," Sarah said, looking at her drink.
"Don't apologise."
"I'm dumping my family crisis on a Tuesday night at a bar," replied Sarah.
"Yes, but that's what hanging out with your friends on a Tuesday night at the bar is for. You're trying to do everything yourself, carrying the emotional weight and decisions. You don't need to do everything alone. Trust me on that," replied J'onn, choosing his words carefully.
"...My friends, not this group. They don't really do complicated. They're good people, but... when you bring stuff like this up, they get uncomfortable, so instead I end up managing their discomfort," Sarah replied.
"That sounds exhausting."
"Incredibly. How do you do it? You always seem so... peaceful," Sarah asked.
"I didn't manage it well for a very long time. I contained my grief from my loss by keeping a distance from connections. I isolated myself, thinking it would solve everything by preventing myself from losing anyone ever again," J'onn answered.
"What changed?"
"Someone forced me to confront it. Someone in a similar situation to me but still very different is what I realised recently. He made me realise that carrying my guilt alone only makes it heavier, but sharing with ones I'm close to can help make it lighter. Your mother is still here, and that's something. She still knows you, deep inside there somewhere," J'onn answered, looking at Sarah.
"Some days she's completely herself, but that's almost harder, because I know it's just going to get worse and worse," Sarah replied.
"Anticipatory grief."
"You sound like you know it."
"I did. Once."
"... Thank you."
"No worries."
She raised her drink and he raised his, clinking them together.
"Where do you come from? Seriously, who are you?" she asked.
"I came from a very long way away. I'm still trying to find my home," J'onn answered.
"What? Are you from Mars or something? Why won't you tell us, Mr Mysterious?" joked Sarah.
J'onn laughed. Marcus looked at him with delight.
"YES. That's one. I'm keeping count from now on," Marcus said.
"Why?"
"Because I made a bet with David that you actually could laugh, he thinks it was an impossibility. Now I'm collecting my money... It's a good laugh, very dignified," Marcus grinned.
"I'll try and make it less dignified next time."
"Oh, please don't. It adds to your character."
Kira was on the couch when he got home with a book open. She looked up when he came in and studied him.
"You seem different," she said.
"Different how?"
"I don't know, I'm not the human expert. Good night?" Kira replied, marking her page.
"Very," he replied, hanging his coat and moving to the kitchen to find the past she'd saved.
"Good," she replied, picking back up her book.
...
Mike arrived at the coffee shop early in the morning before work started. Bette was already there with tea in her hand. Mike got his coffee and sat at her table and then opened his script pages.
"I've been thinking," said Bette.
"About what?"
"About identity. Who am I? What I am is unstable, psychic and unable to maintain my physical form, and in order to maintain it, I need to feed on consciousness," Bette asked, looking out the window.
"Or? Usually there's another identity when one asks this question," Mike replied.
"I don't know."
"Start with what you want, not what you are."
"...I used to want to understand things. Before. When I was... normal. I was curious about how the mind works. About why people feel the way they do," replied Bette.
"That sounds like a psychologist."
"Or a researcher."
"Maybe even a writer. We often have to think about that in order to make good and relatable characters. You could always study something," Mike replied.
"I can't exactly enrol in university."
"Not yet. There's always a way, no?"