Memory: A Coalesce Short

Headquarters

Atlanta, GA

United States of America

December 2016

Mack had a tendency to lose track of time.

He remembered the important dates, of course—he had celebrated Christmas a week back with the Squad. It was nice; they had exchange gifts and had brunch together at one of their favorite restaurants. The mood was at its best. Aether had been leaning against Tadashi and laughing as Peters told one of his stories from high school, and Tadashi had an arm casually wrapped around Aether’s shoulder. Peters was drinking and telling about one of his many failed dates when he was a high school freshman, and Mack—

Mack was watching, observing. And even then he felt happy.

That was Christmas, at least. When they had to get back to work two days after, Mack found himself losing track of time yet again and busying himself with work, just as he did for the rest of the year. There were times wherein Tadashi had to tap his shoulder and ask if he wanted to join them for lunch, and Mack was prone to meal skipping so he quickly agreed.

When he would tell others—like the Squad—that he tended to lose track of time and dates, Peters joked that Mack might end up forgetting his birthday eventually. The rest of them laughed at that, and Mack himself admitted that something like that could very much happen in due time.

And it did.

On the 30^th of December, Mack jumped when Aether slammed her palms on his desk. “Jesus Christ—”

“Why didn’t you tell us that it’s your birthday?” she demanded. Mack blinked.

“My—it’s not my birthday,” he told her, confused, and he saw her huff before she took out her phone and showed him an event on the screen; probably from Facebook. “‘Greet Macmillan Thomas a very happy birthday’—oh. Okay.”

(That probably explained why she looked so annoyed.)

“Did—did you actually forget that it’s your birthday today?” she asked. Mack could only give a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders, closing the folder on his desk. “Mack, I mean it—”

“I’m not the best at keeping track of dates and shit!” he defended. Aether rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, green eyes trained on him. “Seriously, Aether. You remember that one time I almost forgot about the Squad breakfast we planned for weeks,” he tried, but Aether shook her head.

“That’s different. This is your birthday,” she emphasized.

“I don’t get why it’s a big deal,” Mack insisted. “I survived another year here on Earth, that’s great—there’s nothing much to celebrate.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Aether muttered.

“Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.” She glanced at her phone and then back at her office before shaking her head and starting to text. “Clear your schedule later, okay? We’re all having dinner.”

“You don’t have to,” Mack protested, but Aether gave him a steely look and he shut up immediately.

(He also had the tendency to forget that Aether had one of the scariest glares he had ever come across. Peters was constantly on the receiving end of them, and Mack swore that he would do anything to not be on the receiving end. If there was anything about Aether that got to him, then it would be her anger. Most definitely her anger.)

“Dinner later. We’ll take Peters’ car.”

--

“You actually forgot about your birthday,” Peters laughed. Mack grimaced; he was seated in front while Aether and Tadashi took the back. “I can’t fucking believe you. You know that I was joking when I said that, right?”

“I told you it was bad,” he mutters grumpily. From the back of the car, Tadashi smiles and Aether huffs yet again. “At least I remembered on time—”

“You didn’t remember,” Aether interrupts, “I was the one who remembered for you. And that says a lot about your memory, Mack.”

“If you’re implying that I have a problem, then that’s a very shitty was of doing it,” he answers dryly. Tadashi can’t help but laugh into his hand at that, and he manages a smile. “So where are we going?”

“That’s a good question,” Peters notes. He stops by a spotlight that had just turned red. “Where do you feel like eating tonight, Mack?”

And Mack wants to refuse, to protest. Wants to say that he’s okay anywhere, wants to say that he’d be cool eating at a burger joint. But then he remembers why he’s there: he was with his friends, who, despite giving him shit for forgetting his birthday, wanted to celebrate and have a good time with him.

They wait. Tadashi hums to a song on the radio; he hears Aether tap her fingers on her lap while waiting. Peters glances out the window.

“Can we,” Mack starts, and everyone turns their attention to him curiously, “can we go to that one place with the buffet? The unlimited rice bowls?”

It’s Tadashi who reacts first. Mack checks the mirror and Tadashi is smiling widely in agreement. “I know what you’re talking about,” Tadashi answers. “Peters, give me your phone and take a right after the spotlight.”

--

When it came to food, no one would have guessed that Mack was a fucking glutton—more so when it came to buffets.

“I wish I had your metabolism,” Aether told him. Mack was on his first bowl of the night and was downing it like a champion. Mack had chosen a buffet for the night; he and Tadashi had gone there one time after a particular mission that left them shaken. Aether had already gone ahead and so did Peters, and the two decided that they needed a pick-me-up. The place had advertised it as “Mongolian rice bowls” (though neither in particular knew what was Mongolian about it) and they ate their hearts out.

In response, Mack sighed and set down his semi-consumed bowl to take a sip from his iced lemonade. “This is the best shit,” he told them, “And don’t ask me what’s Mongolian about this.”

Peters smirked and returned to the table with his bowl, prepare to dive in. “Don’t quite care. This shit looks amazing.”

“It is,” Mack insisted. He saw Aether glance at the buffet area and he rolled his eyes, suddenly standing up and dragging her towards there. Tadashi laughed in response and so did Peters, the latter shaking his head before digging in. The two returned eventually, a (large) bowl in Aether’s hands. They were talking; discussing the process of assembling the bowl.

“So they just—you just put whatever you want, hand it to them, and they cook it?” she questioned. Mack nodded aggressively.

“Exactly. It’s the best shit—you get to choose among four flavors of sauce and then go wild with toppings. As you did,” he added, and the remaining members of Squad A looked at her bowl, seeing it packed with vegetables. Tadashi’s eyes widened.

“You just made yours a salad bowl,” he accused, and Aether immediately jumped to defend her food choices. “Aether, that is literally a salad bowl with seasoned rice underneath—”

Dinner went by with laughter and ease. There was hardly any talk of work; instead, they caught up with one another. Despite being part of the same team and the same workplace, they tended to forget to catch up with each other regarding their own personal lives.

Peters mentioned his family back in New York, Tadashi had lunch with his sisters, and Aether had a date with Mathieu a day after Christmas. As for Mack, he gleefully told them about the pleasant night of sleep he had managed to catch during the day off. When Peters pried more, he finally admitted that there was someone who had caught his eye pretty recently.

Mack refused to give names, but assured them that the person was kind, that he person was warm, and that the person was (very) attractive. Tadashi gave him a measured look before wishing him luck, and Aether appeared to be very happy for Mack.

They continued eating until unable to; Aether gave after two bowls, Peters with three, and Tadashi and Mack tying with four. The latter two had eaten to their hearts’ content, amazing Aether and Peters. “Then again,” she told the American, “we’re not really the rice type, are we?”

“Definitely not,” Peters agreed. He glanced towards Tadashi and Mack, who were talking amongst themselves. “But…”

“But?”

He just shook his head with a smile; one that was much smaller, fainter compared to his usual, boisterous ones. Aether gave a small “huh” before looking back at the two, who were laughing at something else. “…I think I get what you mean,” she murmured quietly enough for him to hear. He just nodded.

The four of them eventually left after paying (a joint payment among Tadashi, Aether, and Peters; Mack insisted on paying but the three of them disagreed). Along the way home, they had somehow ended up singing to something on the radio which ended with them pulling over in order to stop laughing. The song had been taken too far; Aether had started nicely until the rest of them poured in, eventually screaming the lyrics so much that they ended up laughing.

Mack wiped the stray tears from his eyes, still snickering. Glancing at the backseat, he saw Aether holding on to Tadashi, eyes shut closed as she tried to stop giggling. Tadashi had stopped laughing moments back and was merely grinning, cheeks flushed. As for Peters, the man was still releasing a couple of chuckles here and there, going we’re a bunch of lunatics as the energy slowly died down.

“This is ridiculous,” the American muttered. The rest of them nodded but kept smiling; Peters eventually pulled the car back to the road and continued driving them back.

Tadashi and Aether were the first to be dropped off, given that they lived in the same apartment complex. Aether leaned over and gave Mack a friendly kiss on the cheek (to which the wild-haired male turned fairly red at) before leaving with Tadashi, who wished the other a happy birthday before entering the complex with Aether.

“Did she—”

“She did.”

The both of them stayed quiet as Peters drove Mack to his apartment, Mack idly reading something on his phone and Peters driving. It was nice, mood fairly calm—a mood that neither of them had experienced in a long time.

Eventually, Mack broke the silence. He had to, at least.

“This was nice,” he paused. “The entire evening was nice. You guys really didn’t have to do that—take me out and everything.” Still driving, Peters gave a small scoff.  

“Stop that. We wanted to celebrate with you—and as much as I’ll sound like Aether, we’re pretty much family.” He kept his blue eyes on the road, “And this is what family does. Right?” Mack gave him a long look before nodding, giving a quiet exhale.

“Right…thank you.”

Peters said nothing.

(But Mack saw the smile on the other’s face and just knew.)