Sage and Taylor opened their eyes, coughing and brushing sand off their faces. They were still in Taylor's apartment, but everyone else was gone. And ... the apartment smelled. Not only that, it looked really messy.
"W-what happened to my apartment?!" Taylor looked around in disbelief. Clothes were scattered everywhere, pizza boxes piled up in every corner, and there were shards of beer bottles all over the place.
"Am I wrong, or does it smell like weed in here?" Sage asked, looking at an old stereo system blaring loud rock music.
"No, that's definitely weed. I-I think?" she stuttered.
Then the door to Taylor's bedroom opened. A guy came out, someone Taylor had seen in many photos and heard countless stories about from Colby. She couldn't believe her eyes.
"Oh, finally you’re here ... hey, I ordered two female strippers," he started, taking a sip from a wine bottle. Then he pointed at Sage. "You look pretty good, no homo, but that’s not my thing. But do you know my buddy Levi? He'd love for you to wreck his insides, if you know what I mean." Then he laughed drunkenly.
"T-that's Brad," Taylor murmured to Sage. "T-the real, young Brad."
"Oh, you know me? Am I already famous in your field? I feel almost honored, though I thought my bro Colby was always the wild one with you, not me," he hiccuped, struggling to stand upright.
Taylor didn't waste any time, grabbed the confused Sage by the wrist, and stormed out of the apartment, which had suddenly become completely alien to her.
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They stepped out of the house and blinked in the bright sunlight. The street in front of Taylor's apartment was suddenly different. The cars looked old, many had strange stickers, and almost all of them had antennas sticking up. The many people on the street wore weird clothes with bright colors and wild patterns. Taylor and Sage looked at each other, both with wide eyes and an expression of confusion on their faces.
"Sage, what ... what is going on?" Taylor whispered, gripping his hand as they cautiously walked through the crowd of passersby.
Sage looked around and paused to observe a man with huge sunglasses and a colorful bandana walking past them. He had a Walkman with him. "What the fuck kind of game is this?!"
The sun blazed intensely from the sky, casting a surreal light on the brightly dressed passersby. Taylor and Sage saw kids playing with Tamagotchis, teenagers loitering in oversized pants and chunky sneakers, and adults walking by in terrible plaid shirts and large, double-bridge glasses.
They kept stopping to absorb details that could help them navigate this strange Proxley. A street drummer played an energetic melody while a group of skaters raced through the streets in worn-out Vans.
Taylor pointed, distressed, at a café ahead of them. "W-where is the Apple Store? I-it was right here. I swear."
"Forget Apple," Sage said, pointing at the building next to the café. "Is that a Blockbuster?"
"T-that can't be."
"I’ve had enough." Sage headed straight into the café, which was filled with a dense cloud of cigarette smoke, making Taylor cough immediately.
"Sage, what are you-"
He walked up to a man sitting alone at a table, enjoying his coffee and engrossed in his newspaper. Sage snatched it out of his hands, slammed it angrily on the table, knocking over the sugar, and opened the newspaper.
When Taylor and Sage saw the date on the front page, they shuddered.
"T-this can't be," she trembled, clutching Sage to avoid collapsing.
"Holy shit, this has to be a joke," he shouted angrily, and everyone in the café turned to look at him.
Their reaction was justified. According to the newspaper, it was June 1, 2002. Almost a whole year before Colby’s disappearance.
THE END