The 382 days had passed, and the full crew had come back to earth, with everybody going their separate ways. The crew remained in contact, meeting up every so often to get drinks. In celebration of Jimmy’s arrest, Curly decided to invite everyone to his house for dinner.

You sat between Anya and the empty chair reserved for Curly, your senses filled with with the sound of jazz playing from his record player and the scent multiple spices wafting through the air. He approached the table and set down a tray of roasted potatoes, before removing one of his oven mist and pointing at your wine glass.

“Need a refill?” He asked, flashing that charming smiled you’ve grown to be fond of.