"Where do you want to go, young man?" The old driver asked the only passenger in his car. "You better pay me this time."
After assuring him that he would pay, Liam told the driver his destination and then stared off into space. In his hand, his phone remained unlocked, the screen displaying a message interface opened in a browser. The messages spanned three days, with the last one sent just the previous night.
[THURSDAY, 7:41 AM
1 missed call.
Jared: Dude, where are you? Why isn't anyone responding to my texts and calls?
13 missed calls.
FRIDAY, 12:36 PM
Jared: Just leave a message if you finally feel like talking, man.
SATURDAY, 11:30 pm
Liam: Sorry.
Jared: Finally replied, you shithead. What sorry?]