Amadeus' left leg bounced in time with the clacking keys of his laptop, his knee bumping the underside of his desk every so often when it rose too high. Every few seconds he stopped to gnaw ruthlessly on his thumbnail or to rake a hand through his dirty blond hair. Had it only been three hours since it had been combed to perfection, swooping to the right and held in place with a little too much gel?

Between the deadline for work and the strange, eight-year-old picture from a vacation that had appeared on all his social media platforms labeled 'Today: Eight years ago,' there was a lot to contend with. His fingers paused for a moment, hovering over the keys as his eyes drifted toward the tab directly to the right of the one he had open. Without realizing it, one finger guided the mouse over and clicked, revealing the smiling faces of his past.

Ever since the picture resurfaced, Amadeus found himself drawn back to it again and again like a moth to a flame. It had been taken on their final trip to his parent's beach house on Sterling Shores when they were seventeen, evidenced by his shoulder-length curls, Mae's messy pixie cut with the pastel rainbow tips, and the way he leaned down to press his lips to Rayne's cheek. Amadeus smiled at the memory. That had been the only summer he and Rayne had been a couple, despite a majority of their high school attempting to set the two of them up in every way imaginable since junior high. It had been the most blissful summer of his life before a disagreement he could no longer remember took place on the porch of the beach house on the last day of the trip, tearing them apart.

The three of them were standing together in the dark, dopy smiles plastered on their faces as raindrops trailed down their cheeks. Rayne, standing in the middle, had one arm attempting to make its way around Mae's shoulders and his other around Amadeus' waist. Choppy waves crashed in the background and the lightning strike that had been lucky to catch illuminated the empty beach and the pale blue building behind the trio.

Amadeus slipped his phone out of his suit pocket, sliding his thumb across the screen laced with shallow cracks. The new screen protector was supposed to arrive later that day. He glanced at his watch and sighed, opening the messaging app and typing in the old contact names for Rayne and Mae. The perks of transferring old unused contacts to every new phone I buy, he thought wryly.

The message would be useless, of course. Mae, now going by MaeDay, was beginning to climb the ranks of celebrity with the widespread success of her debut album. Between her fame and rumored engagement, she would have little time for an old friend she hadn't heard from in almost a decade. Rayne, for all he knew, could have a family, a well off career, or a possibility for both now that he was thinking about it, he could have even changed his number.

Still, Amadeus knew he wouldn't be able to get any work done until he messaged them and put his strange urge to rest. Grumbling about all the work he had to do before going on air with the news for the night, he typed out message after message in several iterations before perfecting the last one, attaching the image, taking a deep breath, and hitting send.

Me: Hello. Hopefully, the recipients of this message are Mae Peterson and Rayne Alder. I'm not sure if you remember much about me or if these numbers still belong to the two of you, but this is Amadeus Barlowe. We were thick as thieves growing up. This picture showed up in my memories and for some odd reason, I felt the need to reach out. If you'd like, feel free to do the same.

He ran his hand through his hair attempting to arrange it into some semblance of order, straightened his tie, and went back to his typing, pushing the message as far from his mind as possible.

Water splashed on the tiled floor of the lunchroom and the sticky plastic tables painted in a variety of faded school colors, as Rayne looked on. A pair of unruly students grinned and exchanged a high five, matching chocolate milk mustaches framing their pink lips. The bottle flipping craze that had caused many a spill had ended years ago, but the remnants lingered in the occasional older student who wanted to relive the early days of elementary school when every worry was over whether recess would be outside or in their classroom. He sighed, cursing the day he decided that teaching would be a worthy career and his early morning decision to cover lunch duty for a sick coworker.

"Would the two of you be so kind as to clean that up," he asked, depositing a crumpled handful of cheap paper napkins onto the table beside them. The boys nodded. Both of them scowled, settling down long enough to sop up the mess. One of them trailed his sleeve in the mess, causing Rayne to cringe. Wet sleeves always made him feel uncomfortable.

The pocket of his slacks vibrated unexpectedly, the notification ping lost in the surrounding cacophony. Rayne retreated to the back of the cafeteria, grumbling as he went about parents who texted questions during the day, newsletter emails from the principal, and other useless notifications. He leaned up against the uneven wall and whipped out the offending device, planning to dismiss the message when he froze, fingers hovering over the screen.

"What the," he breathed, staring at the name on his screen, disbelief clouding his features.

1 unread message from: Dae Barlowe

His brown eyes widened as he read the message and with trembling hands, he typed a response.

Me: Hey Dae. It's Rayne. That really is a sweet picture, isn't it? I remember having so much fun on that trip! And I agree. It would be nice to catch up after all these years. I'm working rn, but I'd be down to talk later. It's been too long.

Within seconds, he had a reply.

Dae Barlowe: Cool beans. Any time in mind?

Me: Idk

Me: Should we see if Mae answers first?

Dae Barlowe: Yea. That would make more sense. Have fun at work.

"'Scuse me?" A little girl with platinum blonde pigtails stood in front of Rayne, an orange with a peel butchered on one side held in her small dirty hands. Dried glue coated half of her right palm. "Could you open this please?" Still in shock from the message, he nodded, sticking one hand mindlessly out for the obliterated fruit.

"Right. Of course. It'll only take a little while." It was not the first time in his life that Rayne counted himself lucky for his quiet nature. Being quiet made it easy to contemplate things without anyone worrying if something is wrong. The peel, worked loose from the dozens of attempts to get rid of it, came off white and orange scraps. Miniscule pieces flaked off, fluttered to the dull grey floor, and cluttered in a small messy pile by Rayne's sensible shoes.

"Thank you," the girl chirped, taking the orange back, almost dropping it. Rayne nodded his response, a strand of black hair falling into his eyes as he did so. He pushed it back and straightened, his brown-eyed gaze drawn to his pocket and the phone within for a few seconds. With a shake of his head, he smiled at the child and turned her around to send her back to the blue kindergarten table packed with rowdy youngsters.

"If you need anything else come back, ok?"

"Okie dokie!"

MaeDay sighed and unzipped the sides of her knee high lace-up boots, sliding her feet out. She bit back the aggravated scream that threatened to escape her lips and punched the pillow beside her on the ugly green couch. The celebrity life she had been planning since she joined junior-high band and choir had not been this hard. That plan for her life had been all glitz and glamour wrapped together, all neat and tidy with the comfort of her friends as a safety net.

Well, she thought miserably, snuggling down under a blanket. The only thing in line with that is the fame. MaeDay crabbed a crinkling purple container of makeup wipes from the coffee table in front of her, pulled out a wipe, and scrubbed it across her face, transforming her from rising star MaeDay back to regular old Mae. It felt wonderful to be herself; she had to admit.

Mae glanced at her watch and groaned, flopping back onto the couch. Jordyn, her fiance and guitarist, wouldn't be home for at least another two hours. They had opted to go out for lunch with a lucky group of fans after autographs and pictures were taken. With a sigh Mae pulled out her phone and opened YouTube, as always the perfect distraction from a stressful day.

Much to her misfortune, a lyric video of 'Sea-Green Corruption', her first song to go big, was the first video in her recommendations. Its sea-foam background, a color that used to be her favorite, mocked her. Her long black fingernails clicked against the screen of her phone as she typed in the search bar. It buffered for a moment, the circle looping a few times before procuring the results. Mae clicked on the first video, the newest BuzzFeed Unsolved episode. She had some catching up to do if she wanted to be up to date.

Her phone pinged during the middle of the video, not once, but seven times in rapid succession. Mae paused the video, hoping it would be Jordyn texting about something funny one of their fans had said or with a sweet message about how much they loved her. The chances were high, but it was just as likely that it was one of her managers. Texting to complain about something she'd done recently. With a swipe she exited out of the video and YouTube all together, smiling at her home screen before entering the messaging app.

1 unread message from: Jordyn

3 unread messages from: A's-for-Daes

3 unread messages from: Rayne-Bow Boy

"What the fuck," she whispered, eyes glued to the second and third names. She hadn't heard from him in years. Her friendship with Amadeus and Rayne had been tragically terminated in the last few weeks of the summer before senior year. There was no reason for either of them to be texting her.

Not that it upset her about it. They had been her best friends for roughly half her life. The two had been part of her original plan for a band named 'Rayne-y MaeDae' after the three of them. Having them back in her life would be amazing. But what, she wondered, had initiated the message?

A's-for-Daes: Hello. Hopefully, the recipients of this message are Mae Peterson and Rayne Alder. I'm not sure if you remember much about me or if these numbers still belong to the two of you, but this is Amadeus Barlowe. We were thick as thieves growing up. This picture showed up in my memories and for some odd reason, I felt the need to reach out. If you'd like, feel free to do the same.

Rayne-Bow Boy: Hey Dae. It's Rayne. That really is a sweet picture, isn't it? I remember having so much fun on that trip! And I agree. It would be nice to catch up after all these years. I'm working rn, but I'd be down to talk later. It's been too long.

A's-for-Daes: Cool beans. Any time in mind?

Rayne-Bow Boy: Idk

Rayne-Bow Boy: Should we see if Mae answers first?

A's-for-Daes: Yea. That would make more sense. Have fun at work.

Me: Hey guys. Long time no see. What do you wanna chat about?