Under His Skin by Sidney Bristol

of questions. Stuff you wouldn’t imagine. I get that they’re fans, but it’s like they forget we were people. And a band. It’s more of the same shitty stuff, but now it’s worse because the guys are gone. Ya know? I’m the only person they can ask about Ike’s allergies and Jake’s history as an opera singer.”
    “Mm-hm.”
    He sucked in a deep breath and rubbed her hand. “It sucks. I mean, I can’t tell everyone we were talking about making Homeward Bound our last album.” He turned his head to see her reaction.
    Pandora was beautiful with her long hair tousled and spread out over the pillows. Her focus was centered on him. She looked a little surprised, but not what he’d expected.
    “Was it time?” she asked, scooting closer until their bodies touched from knee to shoulder.
    “Yeah. I mean, Ike and I had been doing Sucker Punch Sunday for over ten years. That’s a lot of sleeping on floors, missing holidays and everything. We were flying out for the New Year’s stuff in New York. Ike and I, we’d been fighting and just made up. We were on the plane, and we had this game where one of us would say, I’d never eat whatever it was you wouldn’t eat, and the next person would say what they wouldn’t eat. It was stupid. He’d just looked at me and said, ‘Dude, I will never eat cow boobs.’ We were laughing one second and the next stuff is flying everywhere. It felt like we were on a roller coaster. I’m pretty sure I passed out before the plane hit the mountain.”
    It had been turbulence. A strong storm had sprung up and the pilot came over the intercom, warning them it was going to get a little bumpy. He’d laughed along with everyone else and tightened his seatbelt. After traveling as much as they did, a little rough ride wasn’t anything to be worried about. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the voices of each person, what they’d said, how they’d laughed.
    The plane shook like a tumbler and they’d stopped the game for a moment. After a tense silence, Ike had chuckled and turned to him. Those last words were so absurd, and just like Ike. He hadn’t even had the time to laugh before the plane careened out of control. Oxygen masks slapped him in the face, but they were descending too fast to grab them. The guys in the seats facing his hadn’t had a chance. The doctors had later told him the three had died before or on impact.
    To the best of his knowledge, he’d blacked out, only recalling moments while the plane crashed, skidded and bounced along the mountain as if it were a ping pong ball. He’d been told Ike’s and Jake’s bodies protected him from the worst debris, possibly saving his life. It was a poor way to console him in the aftermath of losing what had amounted to his whole reason for living.
    His first memory was of the cold. Then came the pain. There were no words to describe the agony he’d felt during his few moments of lucidity on the mountain, alone with the bodies of his best friends. He could still smell the fetid odor that had been the sewage tank cracking open nearby. The way the cabin had split had pinned him with more debris on top of his body and slicing into his leg. Sitting through Pandora’s tattoo had been a breeze in comparison.
    He’d been trapped in the wreckage, in the dark and alone for hours. At first, Ike had talked to him, but after a while he went silent. Brian hadn’t even been able to hold his best friend’s hand while he died. Next to him. In the cold and snow and broken pieces of the plane.
    “Hey.” Pandora’s lips brushed his cheek, banishing the dark memories.
    He turned to her and kissed her, focusing on the feel of her skin against his. How she was soft where he was hard. The way her body curved and fit against him. Letting go of her hand, he tugged her closer to his side and wrapped an arm around her waist. She settled against him, a warm weight on his shoulder, her thigh thrown over his. Her fingers traced the line down