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Jet stream

He was in the middle of reciting his paragraph at drama class when his phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans. He didn't think twice and took out his phone. "Really?", Nico asked, waiting for the end of the paragraph to finally start reciting his text. "Dude..", he rolled his eyes.

"Just a sec, imma take this one." Lake stepped out of the class, into the hallway. "Okay, sorry, I'm listening", he smiled. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, as if it would be visible through his phone.

"Yeah, I remember", he nodded, "you told me about the band." He fiddled with his fingers, listening to what his friend was so excited about.

Few seconds later, the carrousel came to a sudden halt. "An apartment? In New York? Oh". He looked for words, yet the dichotomy between what he was feeling and the excitement on the other end of the phone couldn't have been bigger. His mind ventured through an entire library of feelings and words, yet they all got stuck in his throat. After what felt like an eternity, he manage to let out: "Wow. That sounds like a real change."

For a few seconds, he only heard an endless stream of random sounds, a stream his brains decided not to process any longer. The only sound that escaped from his throat was a hum.

"Hey, I - uhm. I'm in the middle of my drama class. Is it okay if I call you later? What? Oh the time zones. Nah, I'll keep them in mind. Sure. Yeah, cool. Talk to you soon."

He looked at his phone and noticed his fingers were shaking. He pressed the red phone and slowly sank to the floor, his head against the cold tiles. Guess the jet stream just scattered the castle in the sky he was building.

"Good for you", he whispered. A tear rolled over his cheek.