The dining table was crammed with all the delicious foods that Grandma and Grandpa had made. There were scallion pancakes, steamed and pan-fried pork or shrimp dumplings that they made using canned spam and shrimp, egg noodles from the dried egg yolk and ramen packages in the pantry, and fried rice with canned mixed vegetables. There were also smaller dishes around, like spicy pickled cucumbers, glass noodles and carrots, and red bean buns along with some others that I can't remember.

"That's a lot of food," Charles said.

"Yeah," I said. "But you know my family and weddings. There's plenty of food here, so go wild."

Mom then burst into the dining room. "Before everyone eats, I want to take one big family photo with Leon and Mira, so everyone has to go back out now."

"Seriously, Mom?" May said. "I just started eating."

"It'll only be a couple minutes."

"Totally," May said and rolled her eyes. "You guys always take an hour to take these photos."

"Hurry up," Mom said. "You're now wasting everyone's time."

"Fine," she said. "Just make it quick."

"It'll be quick if you stop dragging your feet," Mom replied. "Let's go."

So we all shuffled together to the living room. Mom lined Grandpa, Dad, and I into the back of the photo because we were the tallest in the family. May stood next to Mira, plastering a fake smile on her face while Grandma was next to Leon.

"Is there a way we can make this take a photo with a timer?" Mom asked.

"It's a polaroid, Mom," May said. "What do you think?"

"I don't know how these things work," she said.

"Weren't you born in the seventies? This is your generation's technology."

"So can you do a timer or not?"

"Of course not," May said. "Someone is going to have to take a picture manually."

"I'll take it," Charles said. "You guys are a family, anyways."

"Thank you," Mom said. "You know how to take a photo, right?"

"Yeah. Just press this button over here," he said and pointed to the photo button with his finger. "And it takes a photo."

"Also, make sure to take two photos," Mom said.

"Will do," Charles said.

"Okay everyone, gather around," Mom said.

So we all gathered around Mira and Leon, curling around the both of them like a crescent bay around the ocean. Once we had all shuffled into place, Mom gave Charles a thumbs up to tell him to shoot the photo, and he began a countdown. "Three. Two. One."

And then the photo snapped, and a small piece of film slid out of the camera.

"Second photo," he said. "Ready guys? Three. Two. One."

And at the last second, just before the camera flashed, Mira led out a huge sneeze, throwing her arm in front of her face. A startled Leon stumbled into Mom while May turned her head towards Mira. Only the back row of us along with Grandma maintained our composure. And all of that was caught on film.

"Uh, guys?" Charles asked. "Do you want to take another photo?"

"I don't think we have any film left," Mom said.

"That's alright," Leon said. "I call dibs on the second photo. Mira, you can have the first one."

"Nope," she said. "I'm taking the second one."

"You're not going to burn the second photo, are you?" Leon asked. "Because of the whole sneeze debacle."

"No," she said. "Probably not. Depends on how bad it is."

"Are you serious?" he asked. "'Cause I can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I just want your last physical memory to be the best there is," she said. "You know what I mean?"

"I do," he said. "Which is why you should take the first photo because I want you to remember me as your pretty cool, very perfect—"

Mira playfully elbowed him, and Leon smiled. "And I want to remember you as my beautiful, strong wife who can make even the most serious occasions feel funny."

"Why are you so good at this?" Mira asked and smiled.

"So does that mean I get the second photograph?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "As long as it isn't too bad."

Charles came up to me, with a plate filled to the brim with food. "They look happy together," he said.

"Yeah," I said. "They really do."

He took a fork and picked up a piece of scallion pancake and ate it. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"They should be together, you know," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Leon and his family are heading south," I replied. "Mira is staying back. My mom and dad wouldn't allow all of us to go because it was too risky, so she decided to stay."

"So?" he asked. "I mean she made that decision—"

"But I think I made her make that decision," I said. "Or maybe all of us. I don't know. I guess she's just staying back because she wants to make amends with all of us—"

"But what do you have to do with all of it," he said.

Stolen novel; please report.

There was a bit of silence between us. Mira and Leon were still chatting in the distance while May was grabbing tons of food. Mom and Dad had popped out the last bottle of wine in my house, and they were sipping it and talking with each other.

"Let's just say that I messed up bad," I said. "And I guess I feel that she's staying because we've kinda grown apart, and she wants to know me better now. I don't know if this is the full reason that she's saying, but I feel so guilty that I'm a part of the reason that she's staying."

Charles exhaled loudly. "That sounds complicated," Charles replied. "I wish I knew what to say to you."

There was another silence between us, and I gazed out of the window, where ash blanketed an old sycamore tree.

"Sorry about that," I said. "You probably didn't want to talk to me to hear me talk about myself."

"No," he said. "It's good to let it all out."

"Yeah," I said, but I wasn't sure. It just feels weird trusting someone, even if that someone has been my best friend since elementary school, with something important to me. It feels dangerous, for some reason, and I wish I could take back that conversation right now.

"Oh. My. Gosh," I heard May say as she held a photograph.

"What is it?" I asked and went over to look at the photo.

It was the second photo. Mira has her face all scrunched up with her hands flying while Leon was practically leaning on Mom with the deer in the headlight face. May and I both started laughing. They did look completely ridiculous.

Leon walked over to us. "Let me see it," he said and looked down at the photo and then started suppressing his laughter.

"What are you guys laughing about?" Mira asked as she shuffled forwards in her wedding dress.

"Nothing," May said. "It's just an inside joke."

"It's the photo, isn't it?" Mire said. "Let me see."

"You know, it's not that bad. We both look pretty funny in the photo," Leon said.

"Well I'll be the judge of that," she replied. "Give it to me."

Leon handed Mira the photograph. "Please don't burn it."

Mira started at the photograph, at first with a serious face and then her face loosened up and a smile emerged.

"You sure you want this photo?" she asked.

"Of course," Leon replied. "What better way to remember our wedding during these dark times than a moment of humor."

"Where do you come up with these?" Mira asked as she handed him the photograph.

"I probably plagiarized this from some movie," he said and laughed. "Thanks for giving it back."

"Well, marriage is all about sacrifice," she replied. "I'm sacrificing a little bit of my dignity for your joy."

"That sounds pretty toxic," he replied. "Is there anything I can do for you to make it up?"

"How about grabbing me some of Grandma's red bean buns for a start," she said.

"Anything for you," he said and went over to the food table.

We spent the rest of the afternoon eating and talking and having fun. Charles and I talked a bit, but most of the time, we were just stuffing food into our mouths. It wasn't until today, when food was just abundant, that I realized how hungry I was on the two can diet. It's like all the hunger that I suppressed with the two cans just roared back to life. I probably ate more food this afternoon than I had eaten all day before all of this happened.

"You should probably calm yourself down with all the food eating," I said, but Charles ignored me and grabbed some dumplings.

"You know what I forgot about?" Charles asked while stuffing himself with dumplings. "The bucket-list."

Some of the color had returned to his face, and he looked a lot livelier.

"Yeah," I replied. "I guess with the whole situation at home, I haven't really thought about it that much."

"Any ideas?"

"Well," I said. "It's kinda unrealistic, given the whole apocalypse situation, but I wish I could, I don't know, travel somewhere."

"What do you mean somewhere?"

"Like Hawaii or something," I said. "I don't know. This feels kinda stupid."

"No," he said. "I think I have an idea—"

All of a sudden, he grabbed his stomach. "You alright?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Just feeling light-headed."

He was scrunching up his face and taking deep breaths. All of a sudden, he lurched his head forwards.

"Can you point me to the bathroom?" he asked.

"It's down the hall. First room to the right," I said.

"Thanks," he said and shuffle-ran to the bathroom.

There was something obviously wrong, but it took me a while to recognize what happened to him. The deep breaths to calm himself down, him grabbing his stomach, him stuffing food in his mouth for a solid hour or two. I knew that he ate too much and was going to throw up.

I put down my plate of food and went down the hallway and knocked on the bathroom. "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah," he said. "No, not really. I'm sorry."

"Can I come in?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "The door's unlocked."

I opened the door, and there was a big mess on the floor. Partially digested remains of food dripped onto the floor, and there was this acidic stench in the bathroom. Charles was kneeling in front of the toilet. "Sorry about all of this," he said.

"It's fine," I said. "Probably shouldn't have eaten that much."

"Yeah," he said and sighed. "Hunger takes over your mind."

I grabbed a cloth towel and a pair of rubber gloves from underneath the cabinet and wet it before attempting to mop the vomit on the floor.

"I can help," he said.

"No," I said and looked at him. There were dribbles of vaguely brown-ish fluid on the tuxedo and tie. "What you need to do is get changed back into your old set of clothes."

"Just take everything and dump it in the bathtub," I added. "I'll go get your clothes for you."

I exited the bathroom and went to my bedroom to get Charles clothes streaked with a bit of ash. When I went back, Charles had already taken off the tuxedo vest and tie and dumped them in the bathtub.

"Should I go to another room to change?" he asked. "Since you're busy cleaning up this one."

"No," I said. "I don't think my parents would want little vomit bits everywhere. I'll just wait outside for you."

"Okay," he said and added. "Sorry about all this."

I stood in the hallway, still wearing rubber gloves tinted with a light shade of brown. There was a soft chatter in the living room and for a moment, everything felt normal, like the world hadn't ended and it was just another summer day. But then, my eyes caught sight of the gray skies outside of the window and the cold-ish air inside our house began nipping at my legs, and this illusion that I created just crumbled. Charles exited the bathroom. "I'm going to help you clean up."

"You sure you're up to it?" I asked.

"It's my mess," he said. "And you've done a bunch for me, and I feel pretty guilty for just standing here and watching you do all the work."

"Alright," I said. "If you insist so."

"Don't want to leave you alone cleaning up this," he said. "It's what friends are for."

So we wiped the floor down, wrung out wet towels, re-wet them and continued to try to clean up. I turned on the bathtub to soak the clothes with water. There was something, I don't really know how to describe this, but something special about this. Crammed together, cleaning up vomit with my best friend. It felt so ordinary and yet so unordinary.

"You still want to stay?" I asked.

"I think it's probably better if I leave," he said. "All this food is making me crazy."

"Okay," I said, and we walked to the kitchen. Everyone was in the living room and sitting and talking and no one was really inside the kitchen. I took out some aluminum foil and a plastic bag and we both packed him some scallion pancakes, some dumplings that were beginning to get cold, and a couple of other smaller foods.

When we walked out of the kitchen, Mom was standing in the hallway, talking with Mira. Mom turned towards us. "Charles, are you leaving so soon?"

"He's got curfew," I lied. "You know what these times are like."

Charles gave me a weird look before turning to Mom.

"Thank you for everything," he said to Mom and then turned to Mira. "Congratulations on your wedding."

"Thank you," she said, but I could feel an undercurrent of sadness behind her smile. It looks like Leon is really going to be gone tomorrow.

"Well, I should probably get going," he said. "You know, curfew and all."

"Goodbye," Mom and Mira said before walking back to the dining room.

Charles put on a worn sneaker. "So, you want to tell me about what the whole lying about me having a curfew thing is about?"

"If I said you threw up in the bathroom, my mom would probably think that the food had gone bad or something," I replied. "It'd lead to way too much chaos. It's better this way."

"Okay," he said but looked very skeptical.

"So, what were you saying about the idea for my bucket list?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Meet me at the library on Tuesday,"

"The library?" I asked. "What does that have anything to do with my traveling dream?"

"You'll see," he said and opened the door. The ash flurries had calmed down, but the whole street was caked with this cool, gray snow.

"You need me to walk you back or something?" I asked.

"Nah," he said. "You've already done too much for me."

He turned and walked down the porch, carrying a bag filled with food for his parents. A small gust blew ash into the air as he seemed to disappear into the distance, fading away into the greyness as the sun began to set and the sky became darker.