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[/b][/h3][/sup][/color][/row][row][cell][sup][h2][color=black]MEIR MAGGID[/color][/h2][/sup]
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[sup][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]act one: way down we go[/b][/color][/sup][indent][sup][color=a9a9a9] p. johnson's
[@nodogs][@Prisk][@sweven7]
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How many seconds were in a minute? [i]60[/i], How many minutes in an hour? [i]60[/i] How many hours in a day? [i]24[/i] The math kept compounding in his head until he got to what felt like the end of time and space. But as everything around him was happening so fast it felt like he had been frozen in place. Being able to see every drip of sweat stain his clothes and bead on his forehead. His throat was dry, so dry, it almost seemed painful to lick his lips since they felt like two pieces of sandpaper. [i]”Just take a deep breath, remember your exercises"[/i], these novel exercises revolved around Hebrew prayers. Even though he fell out of faith with his religion there was still a slight comfort on falling back on something familiar to get him through social interactions. His lungs filled his air, regaining confidence in the steps that were deficient upon first entering PJ’s. 

Meir felt kind of bad for scaring Jack, but it was kind of comforting to know she remembered him, why wouldn’t she? Hanna was the third one to appear, in all her influencer glory, Meir would be lying if his curiosity didn’t get the better of him the three months before the meeting. He scrolled and scrolled for hours sifting through the carefully curated socials everyone had made since graduation. He was surprised that she didn’t have a line of paparazzi following her every move. She hadn’t aged a day, he wasn’t sure if that was from natural beauty or the layers of make up and facial care routines that were probably free from sponsors. [color=black][b]“Yeah, it just didn’t feel real for a second”[/b][/color] he coughed, [color=black][b]“but how are you, Hanna? Seems like the years have been good to you.”[/b][/color] Before he could get any further with Jack and Hanna another eerily familiar voice rang through his head causing another chill to run down his neck. It seemed like God really wanted to send him his biggest [i]fans[/i]. 

Connor Sangster, the living embodiment or Ritman, and everything Meir thought he wanted to be when he was younger. While he didn’t bully him as much as he once thought, their relationship was still a little more tenuous than the generic jock vs bully trope. Having what felt like war flashbacks, Jacks hushed whispers fell on deaf ears, he had only wished he had gotten his own snarky come back before Jack did. Regardless he did laugh while he noticed Lucas casually slip in somewhat undetected into a booth adjacent to the entrance. His smile faded once a tinge of guilt coursed through his body, something he had still been beating himself up over 7 years after. Meir should have been a better friend and focused more on his relationship with Lucas than staying one step ahead of Sara Zhou. Which coincidentally conjured her up next. 

The urge to order a second drink was already pressing against the inside of his skull. Sara also hadn’t aged whatsoever, but she did seem to elevate her already good sense of style along with her make up. She was probably the only person he kept in touch with post-graduation, well for a few months before they kind of ghosted each other. Should he go over? Was it too late to make amends with both of them?

Meir turned back to Hanna, Jack, and Connor. [color=black][b]“One whiskey sour please”[/b][/color] he ordered, looking past Jack to the bartender. [color=black][b]“I think we’re still missing a few more people that interacted with your posts at least. Maybe we should you know, gather together like a reunion. Maybe PJs is too small for this?”[/b][/color] he suggested before the newest arrival stopped right past the doorway, Freya Brigham, his high school crush. There was a small pang in his chest, but it seemed just as childish now as it was back then. [color=black][b]“Make that two whiskey sours please.”[/b][/color] This was going to be a long reunion. 
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