Jack, smile fading, backed up as Wes stepped towards him. Something was wrong. There was that feeling again, a sign from some deep primitive part of him that could sense trouble his brain couldn't fully comprehend. He could feel the panic tightening his stomach, his chest, and he inhaled deeply but that didn't quite feel right either. "What the fuck." He was louder than he needed to be. The anger was a defense, a way to hide his growing unease and fear that something was very much not right. He leaned forward to shove Wes with both hands, expecting to feel the solidity of Wes's shoulders, to push him backwards, to finally make him see him.
None of that happened.
Instead, his fingers seemed to dip into Wes like he was merely a hologram or a ghost, and Jack pulled back quickly as if he had been burned. But it was the opposite of that, really- he felt nothing. "This is a really weird fucking joke." He looked around frantically, hoping for some sort of sign, but what he saw instead was- "Sydney?" She shouldn't be here either, and there were so many people but no one seemed to be looking at him, despite how his voice had risen. He felt like screaming at the top of his lungs, something to get someone, anyone, to notice him. He rolled his shoulders, clenched his his jaw, and tried again, mustering all the strength he had.
He found himself falling forward instead.
He landed on his knees, somehow on the other side of Wes now, and it didn't make any sense. Now he did yell before turning and reaching for a handful of sand to throw at Wes. "Wes! Come on."