Mornings are bad as they are, but the particular one after the encounter with Thor was ''Donald Trump'' bad. The atmosphere between us was so heavy, if I were to weigh my head, it would weigh the same of Shaquille O'Neal's. And that guy weighs 147 kg altogether.

'Okay, peeps. Y'all hear me,' Angie's voice rang in my head like the worst hangover. 'We gotta move on. Wallowing on this situation ain't gonna help no one.'
I giggle. I can hear Matt smiling.
'Wow. You just sounded like a stereotypical black person.' Alison comments, speaking for all of us, unimpressed.
'Alison, you can't just tell people they sound black.' I said, in reference to Mean Girls. No one got it, needless to say.
'Yeah, that's just racist.' Angie's girly and high-pitched voice returned to its usual way. 'My mommy used to talk like this when she wanted us to do something. I think it's soo efficient.'

Alrighty then. I guess she was just trying to break the ice.

'What's the next stop? We need to start planning.' it's the first thing Matt has said since thanking us, yesterday before we went to bed.

Angie then did something completely predictable - she shouted 'BACKSTREET BOYS!!'
How nice.

--

After I paid the receptionist to let me use his computer, a quick Google research told me that the Backstreet Boys were actually going to be in a reunion in the capital in.. exactly 5 hours.

And the capital is 4 hours and 35 minutes away with no traffic. NO TRAFFIC. And now it was 2:13 pm, and by when we get there, it will be a peak time, in one of the busiest cities in the world. Of course, this had to happen.

'We need to move right NOW.' Angie aka Captain Obvious states.
'Go, Miss Wolf. We will be your timer.' Matt says.
'You and miss Tupac will. I will go back to sleep.'
'We are all in this together, Alison.' I say, running back to my room.

In impressive 10 minutes, we are back on the road.

--

I would like to say I had no idea how we got there in time, but I know veeery well how.

I drove like a freaking maniac. I cut people off, I went 110 km/hr on a 60km/hr lane and well... I can just say I'm glad I didn't kill anyone, nor crashed into any other vehicles. There are probably twenty speed tickets on my name, but what could I do? I had to be in the capital to see the freaking Backstreet Boys. I would like to see the judge's face when I tell him that.

'So every time I craved Ben and Jerry's or felt like reading Bukowski it was only you guys whispering me YOUR own cravings?' I asked completely shocked. Not even my cravings were my own?
'Not every time. Sometimes it was your doing.' Matt answered.
MY biggest question mark of all was: 'But I don't understand why it took so long for you to interact with me.'

The GPS informed me I was 5 minutes away from the address they were supposed to be at. We were already 10 mins late.

'We aren't supposed to interact at all. We are supposed to work through your subconsciousness. Guiding you to places, making you talk to certain people.' Alison replied.
'It still doesn't make sense. How would I end up on the other side of the country talking to an inmate?'
Angie sighs. 'You wouldn't, silly. That's the point. We would be jumping from mind to mind until we were in someone who would have a reason to do so.'
'That's very unlikely, though.'  I say.
'You know when Nina died all of a sudden and it wasn't fair because she was such a good dog?' Angie was certainly spending some time through my memories. 'The way life isn't fair is the same  way death isn't either.'