Chapter Text
Seyn was an S-tier idiot. Major Ls in the chat. She had forgotten to ask when she should arrive at Red’s. She had also neglected to tell her aunt about this little shanenagen. Quick fix; DMs. Not so quick fix; dinner. As a tradition as old as two weeks, no one missed it. Not even Uncle Doesn’t-show-up-or-care. It was Friday, 5:00 on the dot and spaghetti was being placed on the table and heaped on to plates like mountains of depressed noodles. Layered on top was a blanket of glorious tomato sauce to make glad the hearts of the doomed pasta. Only things missing were the garlic bread and the accompanying alfredo sauce to douse it in. Spaghetti night would never be the same.
“So what did my favorite ladies do today? Seyn, I know you don’t have school on Fridays, so what do you do to keep busy?” remarked the unusually present uncle.
“I was actually going to talk to you two about that. I’ve been thinking about how long I’m going to stay with you because I do not want to overstay my welcome. So I asked Red while we were playing if I could stay with her in Ontario ‘till I find my own place. She said yes and she’s good with me arriving next weekend. I’ve been searching around there for my own place or a rental for a little bit now but I need to be there first. So. . . I guess what I’m asking is if I can fly out there to stay with her.”
“No. I forbid you.” answered her Aunt.
“Helen. The girl needs to grow up and move out! She can take care of herself and she obviously knows and trusts this Red person very much. Seyn, I’ll pay for your ticket if you buy her a gift.” cut in the Uncle, gesturing at the displeased Aunt. Since Seyn did not want to start an argument, she agreed. Plus, she could get a good gift and not have to spend so much money on travels, putting her in a better spot financially.
The rest of the night was spent in dim voices in the office conversing about gifts, what should be packed, and what this would all entail for Seyn while her Aunt sat fuming in the other room after working out some displeasure clearing up dinner. Seyn would fly out the following Wednesday to Ontario from a tiny airport in town.
The ride to the airport was silent in a way that Seyn had never heard before. It wasn’t the silence of displeasure and disappointment, nor was it fake grief and anger. It was… just quiet. There was very little road noise or light to disturb the silent peace over the three in the car.
The airport was very clean and quiet. No one was awake at this ungodly hour and even Seyn was annoyed at having to be pleasant in the airport. She had already suffered her aunt’s looooooonnnnnnnnngggggggggggggg goodbye. The unpleasant traveling sick-nervousness settled over her and made her wonder if she had enough of the right things in her carry-on for this trip. She went over the checklist.
Toiletries, check. All the pants, check. All the shirts, check. Stuffed animals, check. Wait. . . she’s not in the right spot. . . shoot. Her gate is over in the other section of the airport. Welp. Time to walk and carry those awful suitcases around the backrooms-style corridors. At this rate, she might not ever board a plane. NOOOOOOOO!!!! She could not be kept here by a careless mistake and user error. She quickened her pace to almost a jog, but more dignified. Like the now many business men walking around her in a way similar to that of salmon in a large river. But there aren’t any bears around here. Hopefully.
The correct gate was less deserted than the other one. There were a few families scattered around sitting in the many available seats, so it wasn’t the most comfortable place for a socially awkward teenage girl to be sitting by herself, but hey, she’ll make do.
Plane lands, everyone on the plane gets off and Seyn gets on with the other poor people in economy. The countless hours on the plane are spent listening to volume Alpha and trying hard to relax while a child expresses discontent LOUDLY a few rows back. Lo and behold! The child stops screeching four minutes before the pilot announces descent.
Mid afternoon sun streams through the large windows in the baggage area. Seyn hoped she won’t have to wait very long or look very hard for Red in the hordes of people traveling in the Toronto Airport.
There she was. Looking. . . Normal? She was a bit different than expected but the voice fit the person. But still unexpected in a way that was iffy to the mind to wrap itself uppon the fact that this voice Seyn had heard for a long time in her headphones was more than a voice and has a face. And does normal things . Like drive a white van. With gum and candy in it. What the frick Red. If you wanted to ease the moving-in experience, there are better ways to do it.
“Soooo. . . What’s the story behind the van?” said Seyn.
“Tax evasion,” replied Red, looking very awkward.
“So are you just going to avoid the question or what. Tax evasion doesn’t give you a van. It gets you in jail. Or at least I think it does. IDK how Canada works.”
“Did you just say ‘IDK’!? What is wrong with you? You say ‘I don't know’ or somethin’, not ‘IDK’ you freak.”
“I'm the freak?! You’re the one driving a white van!” Seyn was outraged at the accusations thrown at her. This could not be the person she was living with. Nay, she would not live with a kidnapping, scheming, white van-loving, pain in the ears. But, indeed, this was her life now.