The Sunset We Didn't Capture

The bull in the arena didn't stand a chance. Not really. It was just another Friday night rodeo, and Marcus and I were supposed to be having the time of our lives like we always did, squeezed together on those metal bleachers, sharing an orange soda that had gone warm hours ago.

But something was wrong.

I nudged him. "Dude, you gonna watch or just scroll through your life?"

Marcus didn't look up. His face glowed blue in the darkness, illuminated by his iphone like he was some kind of digital zombie, eyes half-lidded, thumb scrolling, scrolling, scrolling through feeds and stories and whatever else mattered more than right here, right now.

"Hold on," he muttered. "Almost done with this video."

The bull bucked. The crowd roared. Dust and adrenaline and that unmistakable smell of dirt and leather hung thick in the air, but Marcus was somewhere else entirely.

I stood up. The metal seat clanged beneath my feet.

"You know what? Never mind."

He finally looked up, confused. "What's your deal?"

"My deal?" I laughed, but it came out wrong. "My deal is that my best friend is literally sitting next to me but is also completely gone. You're more interested in some random person's vacation photos than actually being here. With me. Like, for real."

The silence between us stretched like taffy. Around us, the rodeo pulsed on—riders getting thrown, dirt flying, announcers shouting—but we were in this weird bubble where nothing moved.

"I'm sorry," Marcus said, thumb hovering over his screen. "I didn't realize I was..."

"Being a zombie?" I finished. "Yeah. You kind of were."

He looked at his phone, then at me, then at the orange sunset bleeding across the sky like someone had spilled paint across the horizon. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket.

"Okay," he said. "I'm here now. For real."

The bull rider lasted eight seconds. The crowd went wild. Marcus and I watched, really watched, and somewhere in all that noise and dust, I felt like I'd gotten my friend back—not the zombie version, but the real one, the one who showed up.

The orange soda was still warm. But somehow, it tasted better than it had all night.