I’m outside watching the bonfire when I see Ruben coming toward me, looking agitated. “What’s up?” I ask.
“It’s just– we need to– People need to do something!” he says angrily. He’s waving his arms around emphatically. “We can’t just ignore it anymore. People are out here partying, and–” His voice trails off.
I shrug, holding my palms up. “I don’t–”
He cuts me off. “No. We can’t just sit around anymore. People are dying.”
His words shatter the walls I’ve had up all night. “Well, what do you want me to do?” I ask angrily.
“You know what,” he says. He looks at me intently, his eyes boring into me.
I study him for a long moment before I answer, looking at his earnest face. I’ve known Ruben for a long time, and I’ve never seen him like this before. I nod slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he echoes.
“Yeah. Okay.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “What do you want me to do?” I ask again, gently.
“For starters, you could print that interview with Sinclair,” he says.
I hesitate. Sinclair will kill me. “I’ll think about it.” Ruben opens his mouth to argue. “I’ll print something,” I say quickly. “I’ll make it happen.”
He looks relieved, and hugs me. “Thank you.”
Just then, Terrence walks by. Ruben grabs his shoulder, launching into a similar pitch as the one he just gave me. Terrence shrugs Ruben off. “No. We’re here to party. Can’t I just enjoy my own party?” Ruben begins shouting at him. I roll my eyes. I can’t really blame Ruben for being frustrated, as this has been an ongoing theme for a long time: Ruben wants to talk, and Terrence is only interested in having fun. Not wanting to get in the middle of yet another argument between the two of them, I leave them to it and go back to the bar.