Donovan Sheridan went home last night, growing more and more excited the more he thought about it. He was gleefully reveling in the gossip field all by himself, and when he felt lonely with no one to share it with, he shouted in the group chat:
[The moon is beautiful tonight.]
The others were speechless:
This was a guy who didn't even look at the moon during the Mid-Autumn Festival. Admiring the moon during the Dragon Boat Festival?
Had the stress from work been too much for him lately? Maybe he needed to take his meds?
Then, Sebastian Lockwood, who rarely ever spoke in the group chat, sent a message:
[You're still up?]
Donovan Sheridan's breath hitched. 'My admiring the moon is none of your business,' he thought.
[You're still up too, aren't you?]
Sebastian Lockwood: [Same as you. Looking at the moon.]
[The moon really is nice tonight...]
[Just as beautiful as the moon on the night Rory speared the badger.]
A chill instantly shot down Donovan Sheridan's spine.
