Chapter Text
I only talk to dogs because they don’t understand me…
Music poured into Leroy Mateu’s ears, providing a sort of safe haven away from St. Louis as he walked towards the bus stop.
He’d been at a job interview today, but he wasn’t sure it had gone well. After all, he was wearing jeans and a zip up hoodie that hadn’t been washed in probably a week.
Going from couch to couch, it was hard to find something nice.
Unfortunately for him, the IT start-up he was interviewing for insisted on an in-person interview, despite them being located all the way over in Columbia.
As he leaned against the clear plastic walling of the bus stop, he let his thoughts consume him.
He never let himself wonder about his mother - never lead to anything good - so he wondered about his future instead.
Would he meet someone? Fall in love, get married, have 2 kids by 35, all that white-picket-fence stuff?
In 10 years time, would he still be crashing on his friend’s couches? Still be going to The Triangle every Friday night for beers? Still be passing by every person on the street wondering what if they’re the one?
Deep down, he hoped for that white picket lifestyle. He hoped for nice kids, and a nice partner, with a nice house and a nice golden retriever.
But as he’d learned over the years, these things didn’t seem to come naturally to him. What did come naturally to him was lying, and pulling french exits, and leaving before the sun comes up. Convincing friends that he could stay with them. Promising rent, but leaving before it’s due.
He thought about this as the bus came into view, large and blue and surprisingly loud. It would be where he’d be spending the next 2 hours of his life. Great.
He looked around curiously at the other passengers joining him on the demon bus, pulling one earbud out of his ears.
One of his favourite hobbies was observing strangers and coming up with elaborate backstories for them. It sounds boring, but he found it incredibly entertaining. It was like creating little characters.
On the edge of the bus stop, directly across from him, was a shorter woman with long black hair, who was holding a sketchbook.
She was definitely an animator or something. Anime fan for sure - they’re called weebs, right?
He guessed that she had moved here hoping for some sort of artistic culture or something, and had been pleasantly disappointed. Parents probably wanted her to be a lawyer or something. Shame.
Next was a - actually, he could not tell this person’s gender for the life of him - person with short black hair, their arms crossed defiantly.
Something sparked suddenly in the back of Leroy’s mind - he knew this person from somewhere. There was something so familiar about their haircut, or their face…
Suddenly, he realised. He had seen them before, because they were the owner or something of The Triangle. Raya, or Riley…something like that.
He didn’t need a backstory for them - but he guessed that there were conservative parents, not too far off his own, somewhere along the way there. He just had a feeling.
Great minds think alike sorta thing, y’know?
Next to them, was a middle-aged looking man sitting on the metal bench. He was the only one sitting, for whatever reason.
He was wearing a kind of ugly purple sweater, and definitely looked like someone’s dad. Probably a girl dad, based off of a pink and blue beaded bracelet wrapped around his left wrist.
By know, the bus was here, but the doors were conveniently not opening. So, he continued his little game.
Next, was a sickly-sweet looking tall woman, with curly caramel-coloured hair just past her shoulders. She definitely looked like one of those 2010s One Direction horse girls, maybe a little old to be a part of the demographic. Definitely some farm in there.
And finally, was a woman probably a head shorter than him, with long, dark brown hair and thick bangs across her forehead.
She was scrolling on her phone, eyebrows furrowed. It matched her prim-and-proper outfit of a white button-down shirt tucked into black dress pants.
And he couldn’t lie - she was pretty attractive.
He hadn’t been with many people in his life. There was Celine Jefferson in 7th grade, who dumped him at the Winter Formal for some dude in the grade above.
He had briefly dated Aidan Gallos - this guy he met at The Triangle last year - although it only lasted for a month before Aidan cheated with his ex-girlfriend.
So yeah - not very good.
But this woman - she was…hot.
He wasn’t sure what was so enticing about her - she looked about as uptight as anything, but he was sure he’d like to talk to her, maybe get her number even.
So, as he waited for the bus driver to finally end his smoke break and open the damn doors, he decided to walk over and talk to her.
He smoothed down his far-too-long black hair, straightened his zip up hoodie, and talked a deep breath. Then, he checked his reflection in his phone camera and sighed.
Yeah, he would have to get really funny for this.
He walked over to her in two steps, unsure of what to do next.
Say hi to her, dude! A voice in his head said to him.
“Uh, hi” Leroy said, trying to make his voice sound suave, but it just sounded kind of pained.
“Hey” the woman replied, looking up from her phone.
After a long silence stretched between them, she raised an eyebrow.
“Are you okay? Do you need money, or-” she began to say, getting cut off by the opening of the bus doors.
Leroy’s heart dropped as she got onto the bus.
Alongside his phone, headphones and backpack.
As he leaned down to put everything back in his backpack, praying that the bus won’t leave, he mentally groaned.
Did she really just think he was homeless? Well, technically he kind of was…but it was still pathetic.
He regretted even taking that chance - she was beautiful, rich looking, put together…and he was him.
He jogged onto the bus, eyes widening when he realised the predicament he was in.
The bus was completely full for whatever reason, and there was only one seat left.
Right next to the woman.
Sighing, he walked down the aisle and sat down next to her, his cheeks burning.
He saw her eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and he just muttered a half-hearted “sorry” in response.
The bus began moving, and he put his other earbud in to try and drown out the deafening sound of his humiliation.
Keep imaginin’ meetin’, wished away entire lifetimes-
Suddenly, he felt a hand tap his shoulder.
He pulled the headphone out of his ear, turning to face the woman, taking notice of her dark red painted nails.
He still felt the heat of her touch against his shoulder, which made him truly excited for the first time in a long time.
“Oh, uh, hi” he says to her, and she clears her throat.
“Sorry, I uh, just wanted to ask if you were okay?” she asked, looking slightly concerned.
“Oh yeah, I’m great!” Leroy said a little to excitedly, trying not to visibly grimace at his tone.
“Right…” she says cautiously, and his heart pounds. “What’s your name?”
The question catches him off guard for a second. She wanted to know more about him? He mentally reminded himself to keep his cool, before answering.
“Leroy. Leroy Mateu. And you?” he answers, tapping his black-painted fingernails against his knee.
“Uh, I’m Abigail Brooks”
Abigail Brooks. Abigail Brooks. Abigail Brooks.
He could get used to that name.
“So, what brings you to St. Louis?” Leroy asks, trying to sound nonchalant or something.
“I live there. Was out here visiting a friend. You?” she asks.
“Me too. I was here for a job interview though” he says, immediately regretting it when he sees a surprised look wash over her face for half a second.
After a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, she points to his earbuds.
“What were you, uh, listening to?” she asks nervously.
He thinks of saying something dumb and snarky, then he thinks of saying something cool, then he gets the grand old idea to actually tell the truth.
“Arctic Monkeys. You know ‘em?” he asks, and she nods.
“I’ve heard of them. Don’t really listen to them much though”
Leroy and Abigail spend the next two hours talking, and by the end of it, they’d talked about everything, but not enough at the same time.
Suddenly, the bus pulled into the station at St. Louis, and the two of them walk off the bus together.
“So, can I see you again, Abigail?” Leroy asks, trying to conceal the fact that his heart was beating so hard he thought he might break a rib or something.
“How about we make a pact?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “When you listen to Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, you can call me”
“Deal. And when you listen to Favourite Worst Nightmare by Arctic Monkeys, you can call me” Leroy responds.
They exchange numbers, and Abigail walks away, waving goodbye.
As he walks home, he turns on his phone and presses play on Spotify.
I know there’s nothing to say, someone has taken my place…