The First to Die at the End

by Adam Silvera

“I didn’t get to talk about it with my mom and dad,” I say. “Do you think they would have been okay?” “Okay with the gay?” “Okay with the gay,” he repeats. “Don’t feel like you can’t be honest just because my parents weren’t ideal about it.” “You sure-sure?” “I am sure-sure.” “My mom and dad always wanted me to be happy. I think they always felt guilty that they didn’t make more money to buy me whatever I wanted, so they did their best everywhere else. Like getting me a library card when I needed new books to read, or stealing printer paper from work so I could write my stories. So I don’t think they would’ve given a flying fuck who I brought home as long as they made me happy.”

Valentino throws up a fist. “Well done, parents of Orion. No wonder you’ve turned out so great.” I blush in the darkness. “I got to give shout-outs to Dayana and Floyd too. They’ve been really dope guardians. I can’t think of a better place to have moved to than the home of my mother’s childhood best friend. We got to grieve her together, and Dayana’s always been letting me find my way and make my own mistakes, even when she wanted to step in. Like Times Square.”

He playfully nudges me, and I feel like we’re one millisecond away from wrestling on this air mattress and saying “No homo!” even though we’re both gay.

One moment, the Decker whose life I saved has his spirits lifted, and the next, he’s haunted.

Maybe this is the biggest advantage to how life was lived before—you don’t spend any time grieving yourself when you’re not expecting to even die in the first place.

“I’m not a fan of your parents. Straight-up. If they can’t meet you where you’re at, that shit is on them. It’s their loss because you’re fucking awesome. If you think you got something to gain by talking to them one last time, I say go for it. But please, please, please only do it for yourself. You don’t owe anything to people who don’t want to see you happy.”

“Well, I’m really happy I’ve met you. It’s nice to know my heart is going to a good person.” “Only good? You called me great before. How can I regain some points?” “Let me think,” he says. If Valentino asked for a kiss, he’d find my lips on his so fast.

Scarlett is scared for her life, but knows she shouldn’t be. If she were going to die, then Death-Cast would’ve called.

Death-Cast did not call Naya Rosa because she isn’t dying today, but how can anyone be sure after a Decker has managed to slip through the cracks of their system? And then another and another and another. Four lives gone without warning.

In advocating for the Deckers, Naya knew she must take care of the heralds too.

Each and every one will be Death-Cast’s ghosts.

She discussed this with Rolando—her best friend in this life, and her lover in another—who very understandably hates Frankie and only plays nice to keep her safe.

det här är det sorgligaste jag läst omg

Over the years, the time to leave has never felt right. First, Gloria thought things would change when she was pregnant. She was wrong. Gloria thought things would change when her son was born. She was wrong. Gloria thought things would change when her son slept through the night. She was wrong. Gloria thought things would change when her son started speaking. She was wrong. Gloria thought things would change when her son began preschool. She was wrong. Gloria thought things would change when her son booked a movie. She was wrong. Gloria thinks things will change. She hopes she’s not wrong. But she’s planning to be, thanks to Death-Cast.

“You still haven’t told me how this is supposed to inspire me today.” “I was about to before you started hating on my storytelling.” “I apologize for expecting you to be a know-it-all. I guess everyone needs a flaw.” “My heart is a pretty huge flaw.” “It won’t be for much longer.”

I might not be around to laugh for much longer, but Orion will be if all goes well.

Orion looks at me with his hazel eyes. “I hate that you’re dying, Valentino, but I want you to remember that everything isn’t over just because you’re a Decker. I’m going to keep fighting through whatever your End Day throws your way to turn your life into something beautiful.” There’s no doubt in my mind that Orion means every word.

I bumped into the perfect stranger in Times Square.

“It’s almost like when I die and you have my heart, I’ll live on through you,” I say. “A new, beautiful life.” My chest feels tight as Orion and I stare into each other’s eyes. “Totally,” he says, breaking contact, and I look away too. “I’ll become a walking park.” “What you lack in history, Orio...

It’s hard to live when it feels like death is lurking around every corner.

“I’m going to spend my remaining hours living life from a distance, aren’t I?” “Nope. You’re going to live it up close,” Orion says. “How?” “By making the most of what we can do. If you don’t die happily, then I failed you.” “Tough task.” “Game on.”

“This End Day would’ve long been over without you. You’re part of my journey.”

The longer we take to figure out how to take a selfie on the camera, the longer we’re pressed together. I’m not upset at this by any means.

He counts us down from three and instead of looking up at the camera, I’m smiling at Orion and thinking about the quality moments we can be sharing from the warmth of my studio.

When I first met Valentino, I knew I wanted to be part of his life.

He had stars in his eyes and wanted to grow up in this city. He’ll never be able to do it all, but I’m happy he’s hitting a lot of firsts.

I check the time on my phone to see how long we’ve been waiting when I realize something historic in the world of me and Valentino. “Yo, it’s been twelve-ish hours since we met,” I say. I wish I knew the exact minute. “Really?” Valentino asks. “It feels . . .” “Feels like what?” “I was going to say it feels like yesterday.” “Probably because it was.” “Which is why I stopped talking.” “No, don’t ever stop talking. You have a nice voice, and I like the stuff you say.”

“I’m so sorry, Cupid.” “It’s okay, Oreo.”

“Wait . . . When’s your birthday?” Valentino is shaking his head. “I don’t want to say.” “Don’t fucking say Valentine’s Day.” “No. It’s November eleventh.” “What’s so bad about . . .” I shudder as I do the math. November is nine months after February. “Oh, they—” Valentino slaps his hand over my mouth. “Don’t.”

Anyway, my parents wanted something that had no ties to the Bible or anyone in our family. Achilles was the frontrunner for a while.” “Your heart could’ve been your heel!” “Shit, that’s great! I never even thought of that.”

Everything didn’t have to have meaning. Sometimes something that was beautiful was just beautiful.”

The fact that I don’t know if my own mother and father will grieve me shows how twisted this relationship is. I wish I had parents like yours.” “Me too.”

“If you want to go to the site,” Valentino says, “I would happily go with you.” “Once again, I can’t make your End Day about me.”

He lifts my hand, squeezing as he presses it to my chest and then his. “We’re in this together, Orion. I want to help heal your heart in every way possible. But only if you’re ready.”

But waiting until it’s your End Day to start living means you won’t have time to do it all. Your life will be divided into firsts and lasts and nevers.

I don’t want to die never having stood where my parents last did. I’m going to make this a first.

In all of Clint’s years of people-watching, this is the most connected he’s felt to someone outside his window. It goes to show that even on your way out, there’s still time to let people in.

Is it so wrong for a mother to want her child to be a child for as long as possible? Gloria doesn’t want the answer.

And Pazito was surprised when the author of the original series, Poppy Iglesias, a queer trans woman, showed up on his last day of filming with a signed copy of the first book, the very book that Gloria believes has been instrumental in helping Pazito better understand himself, even if he hasn’t come out with those words himself.

🥺

“No day is perfect, but we’re trying,”

“That’s good, but I’m not crossing that line anymore. I was asking if you’re being careful about how invested you get.” “Yeah, I’ve got a condom on my heart, don’t sweat it.” “I’m serious, Orion.”

I keep my eyes on Valentino, wanting to kiss the hell out of him. Holding back my feelings is like sinking into quicksand; the deeper and deeper I’m buried, the more desperate I am to breathe. “I’m serious too. It’s just getting harder and harder acting like I don’t like him. Every minute that passes, I care more.” “Do you think it’s extra charged because it’s his End Day?” “I was feeling my feelings before I knew he was a Decker. My heart knows what’s up.”

The deeper I go into the darkness, the eerier it becomes. “I’m starting to feel like you shouldn’t be here,” I say. “I’m not going anywhere,” Valentino says. If he dies here, not only am I never returning to this spot, I’m getting the hell out of this city.

It’s a hole in the world where the Twin Towers once stood, and I feel like it’s sucking me in, like a whirlpool.

Something feels off. Nah, not something. Someone. That someone is me. I feel off, like my heart’s switch has been flipped. “I thought I would cry.” “Is it because I’m here? I could give you some privacy.” “No, I want you here.” “Okay. Then what is it?” “Ground Zero’s emptiness reminds me of the funeral.”

I’ve only known you for twelve hours, and I couldn’t even abandon you in this dark, cold corner of the city that’s heavily patrolled. You’re too special, Orion.” Dude is trying to blow up my heart.

I pull out the camera from my coat’s pocket and snap a picture of Valentino. “What was that for?” he asks. “You’re the first guy I’ve brought to meet my parents.” Valentino is blushing, definitely not sun-kissed cheeks. “Hopefully I’m not the last, Orion.” Why does moving on feel so heartbreaking? He’s not my boyfriend, and we’re not in love. He’s going to die today, and I’m going to live. All this answers my question. We’re not going to get the chance to become boyfriends who fall in love. His journey ends here, and I’ll keep going until I can’t.

Valentino takes the camera from my hands. “Let’s get a photo of you visiting your parents.” I don’t fight him. This is a memory I’ll be able to share with Dalma and the Youngs.

Guilt when I laughed for the first time. Totally lost and trying to find myself in stories. Shame for having a crush. Regret for not coming out. Not going to Ground Zero on the one-year anniversary or the year after or the year after or the year after or the year after or the year after or the year after or the year after. Now I’m here, alive—not always well, but alive.

I’ll keep standing tall for my parents, and living the kind of life they would’ve loved to have watched me live.

Scarlett arrives at the customer service counter, gasping for breath. “I need the next flight to New York. Death-Cast has called my brother.”