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"Please focus more on the road," Lucas said, gaze fixated on Joy who paid more attention to the radio than the road ahead of them. Somehow they made it to the freeway and yet her attention was mostly on the radio. 

"Shut up," Joy grumbled. "We need a good song for this drive."

Lucas rolled his eyes, "I really don't wanna end up as roadkill. As a passenger, I am just providing helpful criticism." 

"What made you qualified for criticism?" 

"You are the one who made me sneak out at three in the morning." He argued back. "I think I am pretty qualified for criticism."

"No you're not," She let out a small chuckle. "Don't argue with me." 

"I'm arguing with you. Insert arguing." 

Lucas reached over and swatted Joy's hand away to adjust the radio. But the song that came up on shuffle suddenly made him anxious. Music was something too close to him so sharing his taste with someone else was much more challenging than normal.

He eyed her warily, nor sure whether she liked it since she was sitting still, gaze ahead as she watched the city lights blur into a hazy golden strip. 

He glanced briefly over at her, chest taut and heart hammering when Joy caught his eye. It was a fleeting glance, but she managed to give him that oh-so-familiar, witty smirk that always made his own mouth twitch.

In the darkness of the car interior, all he could make out was a glimpse of Joy's grainy smirk and dark, narrowed eyes. Occasionally light would spill across her features, turning her irises into a hue of a cloudy night, and for a moment, she seemed unreal. 

But before he could dwell on that idea, he forced the thoughts out when he heard Joy say, "Take a picture, it will last longer." 

Face burning, he whipped his attention forward to the red light that now shined a vivid green. "Shut up," He mumbled. He could feel Joy's eyes on him, watching him. He shifted under her gaze.

"Y'know this song-," Joy started when the silence dragged on way longer than it should have. Although Lucas wished it stayed quiet as his shoulders tensed, the knot in his chest squeezing into a tighter ball. 

 "-Okay but before you make fun of me," He cut her off, painfully aware of how hot his face was but part of him didn't want to hear what she was going to say just yet. "This song is fucking amazing. You don't even have a place to judge," 

 "Hey, I wasn't even going to shit on the song," Joy defended. "It's really good. I like the chorus. The part that goes-," she added as she sang along .

"-That's the pre-chorus." Lucas said as Joy made a face, to which his lips fluttered into a tiny smile. Part of his worry was alleviated when she complimented it. He didn't know why he was stressing over something so stupid- it was just a song after all. There was no use dwelling on it. 

 "You have a love for music, huh?" Joy murmured. 

"I do." Lucas declared shortly, the words leaving his tongue feeling strangely good. 

 "Oh? Tell me more," She hummed. 

 "Well," Lucas scratched his neck, "I listened to a lot of music when I was hospitalized, and I always found comfort in it. Good songs are calming, you know?"

"Yeah, I agree," 

 "Really?" When they stopped at another red light, he turned to look at her, only to see that Joy was facing straight ahead.

"Really," Joy repeated. "Songs have an unsaid hope in them." 

"Hope?" He let out a breathy laugh. Joy shrugged. 

"I like to psychoanalyze things in my free time." At that, Lucas rolled his eyes.  "Different songs just give you different feelings. It's just like going into a new universe and interpreting the universe's meaning through lyrics and melodies."

"Wow," Lucas whistled. "You're one sappy bastard. I thought you weren't into sappy things." 

"You're right," Joy laughed, though the sound came out a bit strangled. "I'm not a romantic, but I guess I tried." 

 "You tried," He said in disbelief, glancing over at her again to see that Joy was smiling.

Neither of them said a word for the rest of the drive, but there was nothing awkward about the warm silence that huddled them close. Lucas's heart stuttered to an honest pitter-patter, and the nerves that danced in his limbs ebbed. It wasn't too bad once he got the hang of it.

When they arrived at their destination, Lucas's brows crumpled, not at all recognizing this place. There were a few cars parked around so it wasn't entirely sketchy. But they were definitely at the back of something.

"Where did you bring me?" Lucas asked, watching Joy turn off the engine.

"We are gonna watch performances," Joy said. "Ever heard of busking?" He nodded.

"People busk at 3 am?" His nose crinkled as he followed Joy out of the car, locking the door behind them.

"Some do," She said, sticking her hands in her pockets. He did the same, immediately shivering when the chilly breeze rustled through their huddled bodies.

"Why are we going now? We could do any other time." Lucas said over the chatter of his teeth. He followed Joy down an alley and onto the main street, squinting when his eyes were immediately bombarded with bright lights.

"Well, I didn't want to be alone," Joy answered softly. She dragged Lucas to a part of the street where people have still gathered around in groups, watching dancers, blaring hip-hop hits from a set of speakers.

Lucas never witnessed busking before. It was somewhat funny, seeing that he was a local for most of his life. He was supposed to know these things, and yet, he was finally watching busking for the first time with Joy Jones of all people.

It was strangely nice. And new. Nice and new were the only words he had for this experience mostly because he was running on mere exhaustion and adrenaline, which weren't exactly a good mix. Even though Lucas wasn't completely new to sneaking out, it surely had been a while, and his body was way different since then.

But none of that seemed to matter.

Despite his breath hitching in his throat more often than it should, his lungs aching, and his bones growing weary, it didn't seem to matter. Not when Joy was now holding onto the curve of his elbow, guiding him lightly, supporting him in silence.

It was like she gave him the energy, the thrill to go on, and oh how rare it was to feel that way. To even feel like an actual person and not like a shell of something. For once, his chest wasn't frosted over or hollowed. It swelled with this unforgettable warmth, a feeling that'd be forever ingrained in his memories because of how full it made him feel.

Lucas swallowed, glancing at her, remembering what he thought about Joy in the car. She still looked good. Nothing about her face was sore in the eyes. From the neon street signs to the pale lampposts illuminating her features, she looked unreal.

So unreal, part of him wanted to reach out and make sure that this wasn't just some cruel joke.

Make sure that the girl in front of him was not some illusion he made up in his drug-dazed mind, and that what he felt had to be genuine, mutual even. He couldn't read her mind at all, but certainly, he could make an educated guess and tell himself that Joy liked spending time with him enough to be dragging him here.

"And? You are not alone. You have a boyfriend," He decided to say instead, keeping a considerable amount of distance between them. A safe distance. 

"And?" She retorted. "Okay, what's you obsession with my boyfriend?" She asked with a light laugh.

"You are a couple," He merely shrugged, hating how the nape of his neck stung. "Shouldn't you be doing stuff like this with him?" 

"What makes you think I don't?" 

"I never said you don't." 

"Did Bea put you up to this thinking?" He could hear the annoyance in the strain of her voice. "It doesn't look as bad as she says it does." 

"You don't have to explain to me," Lucas shrugged again. He glanced over at her, chest squeezing when he noticed she was looking the other way, not at him. "I'm sorry, if I like, hurt you or hit a nerve or something." 

"You didn't hut a nerve," She mumbled. "It's fine." 

"Are you sure?" Lucas snaked his hand around her wrist, gently to not lose her as the crowd of people started pushing around. 

"I'm sure," She whispered, glancing down at his hold on him and back at his face. Though this time, her gaze was softer and as much as he didn't want to notice, noticed. 

Cheeks flushing, he quickly averted his gaze toward the performers, watching with heavy lids as they danced freely and laughed effortlessly into the crisp, cool night.

Lucas didn't like thinking about the other possibilities he could've experienced. It was hard enough accepting that this was his life. This was what fate decided for him to have, and there was no reversing the fact he was going to die, or that he'd never get to experience that euphoric carelessness radiating off the faces of the dancers.

Part of him was fine with it, seeing that he lived with the diagnosis for so long that it was half of his identity. And yet, the other part was bitter.

So bitter that it left his mouth all dry and sour. He licked his chapped lips, a pang rattling his chest as he watched groups of friends joke around, pushing at each other and laughing out loud. He dropped his hand from Joy's wrist, fingers curling into fists into his hoodie pockets.

Lucas didn't usually have these thoughts. Never did he wish that he could be those people, but right now— oh how he wanted to be there. To be them. To stupidly feel like the world was against him and he could still lash out with a fighting chance. To feel alive. To feel like he wasn't being singled out.

It was an ugly feeling; a stomach-twisting, lung-stripping sensation that left him empty all over again. He tried to pry his attention away, hating how cold he was. How that stark chill made him so tense that—

"—you're thinking hard again," Joy nudged his side, resurfacing him from his thoughts.

Lucas peered over at her, lifting a brow, "Are you staring at me?"

"Yes," Joy grinned, eyes crinkling. "You wanna share what you're thinking out to the group?"

"Oh god," He grumbled, "You sound like your brother." 

"That's the point," She said, "Tell me something, and I'll let you know something in return."

"We're playing that game?"

"Yep," Joy hummed and nudged him. "I wanna know what you're thinking."

"Why?"

"Because I care."

"Not that again," Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"I am gonna buy you ice cream if you do." Joy jutted her chin adjacent to them towards a drugstore. "Let's get some ice cream and then we can walk some more."

"Ice cream?" Lucas gave her a skeptical look.

She gave him a thumbs-up, "Ice cream." She repeated as Lucas scoffed.

"No." He said, shaking his head. A smile toyed on her lips.  "We are not getting ice creams and I am not telling you anything."

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They did end up getting Ice-creams.

Lucas graciously paid for it, telling Joy she could put her money away. Of course, Joy rolled her eyes at the gentleman in front of her. But she didn't mind it. Instead, a smile made a place on her lips as she trailed beside him, picking out their flavors before walking out of the shop and taking a step out in the cold night.

"You're gross. Who eats ice cream that tastes like toothpaste?" Joy pointed her blue spoon at Lucas with a disgusted look.

"Who doesn't like mint chocolate!" Lucas asked innocently as he spooned some into his mouth. "You're one to talk, tiger tail."

"I just picked the first thing I saw!" She defended herself. Lucas snorted, red spoon still in his mouth. 

"So? Who in the right mind picks tiger tail?"

"It looks really cool though"

Lucas made a face trying his best to drown the nervousness out before it got too awkward to be at. "You're weird."

"But now, you owe this weird girl an answer. Pay me back, buttercup."

"Don't call me buttercup," He deadpanned.

Joy smirked frivolously at him. "Alright, cup' butter." Lucas scowled. "Tell me, now."

"Now you're just putting me on the spot."

"That's the point," Joy mused. "Go on now, tell me."

"Do I have to?" He whined. Joy nodded eagerly and made a dumb point of enjoying the melted tiger tail with an exaggerated moan. "God, I hate you."

"No, you don't," Joy smacked her lips.

Lucas rolled his eyes, "You're gonna think it's really, really stupid." He inhaled sharply as he stared down at his cup of ice cream.

How would he word this? This annoying feeling brewed inside his heart snatching every bit of happiness he had, making him feel like he didn't deserve any of this.

Lucas glanced down, his breath stuck in his throat when he met Joy's hooded eyes.

He hated this. He always hated talking out loud and being so vulnerable because words were hard. Very, very hard. It was tough putting them together and forcing them to fit, only for it all to crumble apart. It was frustrating, to put thoughts into words when nothing ever worked out for him.

Telling Joy all his feelings would make this seem more real than it was. Make her mean more to him than she already did.

When someone began to mean something, they were no longer an irrelevant blur in his peripheral. He would see them, all of them, and when he had to leave, it would be their face that he would think of first. Laura. Now Joy.

And it sucked to care. It sucked when nothing became something because it reminded him of how unfair things were.

It reminded him of the part of himself that genuinely wished he could stay.

But with one hefty breath, Lucas eventually said, "I wish I had more time."

Joy stiffened visibly. He watched as multiple expressions flickered over her features, brows creasing; easing. Her lips twitched, falling into a frown before flattening into a thin line. Lucas swallowed, carefully studying her face, heart stuck in his throat. Beating. Aching.

"I wish," Lucas hung his head low, stirring the minty paste in his cup, "I wish I could not care again. Seeing those people dancing and enjoying made me wish I had time."

"I don't know what to say to that," Joy admitted after some time. She wasn't looking at him but outside as buskers packed up their stages and drunks staggered across the street.

"You don't have to comfort me," He said shyly, shrinking in his posture. "I-I accepted everything. I know it's going to be over soon. It's just a stupid passing thought."

"No, it's not. It's not stupid," Joy said. "You're allowed to think that, Lucas. It's natural to want more time. There's only so much you could do to avoid death, and honestly, we're all living on borrowed time."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

Joy hummed with a lazy, lopsided smile, "Really. Even I'm living on borrowed time. There's just never enough, no matter how hard humans try to play God and beat around the bush."

"Yeah. There's never really enough time," Lucas chuckled, though it sounded more like a pained cough. "I wish I could feel infinite again, y'know? Like a dumb, self-centered teenager. But I know infinity isn't possible though."

"Right. Infinity isn't possible," Joy crumbled the plastic cup in her hand, voice drifting off. "But you don't have to feel infinite to have a good time. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities"

"What do you mean by that?" He looked to his side, and when he caught Joy's gaze, the knot in his throat tightened.

"You can be nothing and still act like an idiotic, self-centered teenager who makes bad decisions."

"Nothing? What?" Lucas's eyebrows furrowed.

"We don't have to be something to feel infinite is what I'm trying to say, Andrews," Joy declared, eyes twinkling beneath the nasty, street light. "We don't have to be something when we could be nothing!"

"Stop with the philosophy shit, Jones," Lucas muttered, grimacing a little.

"No, I mean it." She beamed, happily throwing the crumbled cup away. "Let's be nothing together!"

"I don't think that sounded the way you wanted it to," Lucas commented wryly. Joy snorted.

"Okay, party pooper," She mocked him. Lucas flipped her off boredly, but of course, Joy ignored him. "But my offer still stands. Let's go do dumb shit and be nothing together."

"That sounds like a bad Tumbler metaphor for suicide," He muttered.

"Hey," Joy frowned, "You know, you often use humor to deflect your trauma."

"Thanks," Lucas said finishing his ice cream.

"Never said that was good Andrews," She eyed him warily.

"What I'm hearing," He pointed his spoon at her, "is that you think I'm funny."

"Maybe sometimes, but not right now. I'm being serious," Joy raised her hands in defense. "You said you wanted to do dumb shit."

"Yeah, figuratively. Not literally." Lucas said.

"Lucas." Joy stared at him, making him shift awkwardly beneath her intense gaze. "Let's get tattoos."

Lucas nearly choked on air at her sudden exclamation. He blinked a few times, "You want to get what now?"

"Tattoos! I know a guy who gives them if you want one. Totally illegal, but it's still a good piece of ink," She mused, already fixing her jacket. 

"Are you serious?!" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah! Let's go. Night's young. We're nothing. Let's get tattoos," Joy patted his back with her free hand. Lucas nearly stumbled from the force.

"We're really doing this," He said dumbfounded, feeling Joy's hand wrap around his hand, pushing him forward.

"Yes! And it's on your bucket list. Let's go!" Joy shoved him out into the road.

Lucas stiffened immediately; his breath, every thought, and his capacity to even function was stripped from him as he felt Joy's hand on his own. "Okay," He said awkwardly, trying to block out the fact her finger curled against his hand.

"Let's get going Andrews and get those damned tattoos," She mused, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah," Lucas blinked, the current situation still taking its sweet time to settle in. "Let's get going."

When Joy gave him yet another mischievous smirk, Lucas didn't know what to do or say. Whether it was exhaustion or confusion, what in the world was he even signing himself up for?

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