Chapter Text
The sun had set and the lights of your car cast a dim glow upon the street before you. No rain, no clouds, just you and the open black sky littered with bursts of stars here and there. It’s 9.43pm, and you wouldn’t normally expect to be driving this late.
Well, you also didn’t expect to get fired this morning.
It’s not like it was your dream job regardless, however, it still stung that they felt you weren’t working hard enough. You squeezed in extra shifts, scrambling to make ends meet, and being fired was just a kick in the teeth. You had only been there for 6 months now, before that swapping between jobs and spending your days in interviews. You recalled your conversation with your manager earlier that day and clenched your jaw. It all felt like a constant downward spiral.
You shake your head dismissively, trying to distance yourself from the situation and move forward efficiently, in any way possible.
When you were younger, you wanted to be a star, or at the very least have a fraction of a relation to music, your one thing rooting you back to the earth when you felt that you were floating so far above it. Having studied every book on guitars, the wiring of every pedal, even picking up your dad’s cracked old camera to take pictures for a slither of cash at a local bar where your friends played, you felt like you had something. The few friends you had took off as soon as the last bell rang for college, knowing exactly where their dreams were taking them. Your dreams were shattered when you couldn’t get the support in your small town, your parents unsupportive of your journey and laughing at the mention of being famous.
Most of all, you wanted stability. At the moment, you felt like you’d collapse from the imbalance of everything.
That’s why the night drive was necessary. Something to clear your head. Something to pull you out of this, even for an hour.
As you continue down the long, seemingly never ending road out of town, you notice a bench about a mile ahead. It didn’t seem to you like it was there before, from the few times you’d taken this route. The gap between you and the bench decreases, and your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you.
There’s a guy sitting there.
He’s got shoulder length hair with a jagged fringe, tanned skin and is sporting black jeans and a grey hoodie. He has his hands clasped tightly together in front of him, looking down at them. He looks sad, and you feel a pain in your chest.
You seriously can’t just stop by some random dude on the side of the road. Or…
You slow the car down, rolling down your window cautiously, knowing you can’t fully trust this guy, or anyone at the moment. His eyes meet yours, and the car comes to an abrupt jolted stop.
Normally, you don’t stutter. Suddenly, you’ve started to.
You drive the car slightly forward to get level with him.
“Vic?”