Chapter 39: Chapter 39
Ray frowned, turned to Karl with a deadpan face, his eyebrows twitching a little from pure annoyance.
"Huh?"
Karl grinned like an idiot, hands still gripping the wheel while he kept sneaking glances at Ray. His eyes were straight-up sparkling like he just struck gold.
"Bro, you got those super niche Karl Marx jokes! The one where you called me Karl but said I only got a tiny marker to blast with!"
Ray went quiet for a sec. His brain needed a minute to process Karl’s overly hyped rambling. Then he just hit him with a flat, "Oh... okay."
Inside his head he was already thinking:
’This dude is actually deadass trying to become a stand-up comedian. My jokes were literally just half-assed replies to his boomer dad jokes. Is he seriously about to use that shit for open mic?’
Ray squinted at him, still frowning. "So... where the hell are we going?"
Karl got hyped as fuck and slapped the steering wheel with his left hand. "Just roll with it, bro! We’re cruising around the city. Everything’s on me. You just got canned, you need some fresh air, right? Chill out. I’ll buy you lunch, coffee, whatever the fuck you want. I’m in a stupid good mood today ’cause I got comedy inspiration hitting hard. You just sit there looking pretty, listen to me yap, or throw some jokes back. Deal?"
Ray swallowed hard.
Last time he went on one of these drives with Karl, the dude yapped non-stop from morning till night — weird-ass comedy theories, his delusional dreams of becoming a famous comedian, and breaking down other people’s jokes like they weren’t "niche" enough. It gave Ray a straight-up headache. But at the same time... he thought about it. If he stayed in the apartment, Kevin would 100% show up and be annoying as hell. Plus he just finished yelling at Julia so bad. Maybe getting some air was smarter than dealing with more screaming or Kevin banging on the door.
Ray let out a slow breath and leaned back in the passenger seat. "Whatever, man. Do what you want."
Karl let out a little cheer. "Yes! You’re gonna have a good time, trust me. While we drive we can go deeper on those jokes. You got any new ones? Darker? Spicier? I need shit that’ll have people our age laughing so hard their stomachs hurt."
They rolled slowly out of the apartment complex. Karl kept yapping with zero breaks, his right hand flying off the wheel every few seconds for dramatic gestures. Ray just nodded once in a while or mumbled "mm" so Karl wouldn’t catch on that he was barely listening.
But Ray’s mind was already somewhere else.
He could still see it clear as day from this morning — Julia losing her shit, his dick soaked from her spit, those big tits getting groped until he was two seconds from busting right there. Then the landlord showed up, reeking of cigarettes mixed with cheap perfume, pale arms a little sweaty... and Ray’s dick got hard all over again even though he just finished with Julia. Even after showering and changing clothes, the image was still stuck in his head. That sticky nicotine smell, the landlord’s kinda raspy voice, and that "this is so fucked up" feeling that somehow made him even hornier.
"Fuck... that apartment is actually insane," Ray thought, shifting in his seat a little. His dick, which was already half-hard from remembering the landlord, started throbbing again from his own filthy thoughts.
Karl had zero clue. He was still deep in his open-mic planning, talking about mixing those niche Karl Marx jokes with his brand new nihilist comedian persona.
Ray just stayed quiet and prayed this drive wouldn’t take too long... or at least that Karl wouldn’t drag him somewhere crowded. Because besides being tired of the constant yapping, his dick was getting harder to ignore by the second.
Karl suddenly glanced over with a big stupid grin. "Yo, you’ve been dead quiet. What you thinking about? New jokes? Or... some chick—?" He caught himself mid-sentence.
Ray immediately turned to look out the window, trying to hide how tense his face got. "Nah. Just tired."
Karl laughed. "Relax, bro. Today’s all on me. Just come along. Who knows, maybe we’ll find a spot that’ll make you forget all your bullshit. And don’t stress about money, I can spot you some cash if you need it..."
Ray frowned, confused.
Karl chuckled low. "Bruh, word’s already out that you asked Sonya out on a date. Damn, I didn’t know you were into MILFs like that, hahahaha..."
Ray let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Ah... I’m good. Still got some money." He said it firm.
Karl threw up a thumbs-up while grinning like an asshole. "Sigma sigma boy, sigma boy..."
Ray’s eyebrow twitched.
----
Hours later, the sky had already gone full dark.
The whole day had been... weirdly nice in a way Ray didn’t expect. Karl drove them all over the city like he had nothing better to do. They grabbed greasy burgers at some hole-in-the-wall spot Karl swore by, then coffee that tasted like shit but Ray didn’t have to pay for. Karl kept yapping the entire time — open mic plans, how he wanted to mix philosophy and comedy together and creating a whole new comedy genre he was calling philosloppy.
For once, he didn’t have that constant low-level stress about what he was gonna eat tomorrow or how he was gonna stretch his last bit of cash. Karl paid for everything without making it weird. Ray almost felt like a normal person for a few hours.
But by the time it hit almost midnight, Ray was done. His head was pounding from Karl’s non-stop talking, his legs were stiff from sitting in the car so long, and he just wanted to crash. He finally told Karl to take him home, voice flat but firm.
Karl didn’t argue. Just grinned and said, "Aight, bet. You look cooked anyway."
The drive back was quieter. Karl still talked, but slower, like even he was running out of steam. When they pulled up in front of Ray’s apartment building, Karl put the car in park and turned to him.
"Hey," Karl said, voice dropping a little. "If you got any problems, like real shit, hit me up, alright? I’m serious. Don’t just ghost or whatever."
Ray looked at him for a second, then nodded once. "Yeah. Thanks, man."
Karl gave him that big dumb smile again, slapped the steering wheel twice like he always did, and said, "Aight, get some sleep, bro. Text me if you need anything." Then he peeled off, tires making that little screech on the asphalt.
Ray stood there on the sidewalk for a moment, watching the taillights disappear down the street. He let out a short laugh — half tired, half mocking.
"Fucking Karl..." he muttered, lips twitching into a small, reluctant smile. There was actual respect buried under all the annoyance. Dude was a lot, but he showed up.
Ray was halfway to the lobby doors when that weird feeling hit him — like he forgot something important. Something he was supposed to deal with today but completely pushed aside while Karl was dragging him around the city. He slowed down, frowning, trying to remember what the hell it was.
He didn’t get the chance to figure it out.
A figure stepped out from the side of the building, blocking his path. Kevin. Arms crossed, face tight, eyes locked on Ray like he’d been waiting for hours.
"We need to talk."
