Chapter Text
Be patient towards all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms, like books written in a foreign tongue. Do not now strive to uncover answers.
California was brighter than Webster expected it to be.
It wasn't just the sun (which was already making his hair stick up in sweaty spikes) but the atmosphere of it.
The train spat him out onto the curb in a rush of chatter and exhaust. Travellers around him were embracing family, being swept up in lovers’ arms or having their luggage whisked away for them. People scattered in every direction like they knew exactly where they were going.
Webster, for one, did not.
Everyone else was in light summer clothes, dressed for comfort and heat. He adjusted his grip on his bag and shifted under the heavy weight of his coat.
Outside, a line of cabs was parked on the street, engines ticking over as their drivers waited idly for the efflux of passengers. He leaned forward, scanning for one that hadn't already got someone climbing in the back.
“You need a ride,” a flat voice cut cleanly through the air, “or are you just enjoying standing there?”
Webster blinked.
One of the cabs was parked slightly in front of the rest, angled there on the curb like it had claimed the space by force. The driver leaned back against the door, expression sharp but not cruel. His eyes were simultaneously sharp and assessing, and terribly bored.
Webster stepped forward at once. “A ride, yeah." he cleared his throat. "That would be great, thanks.”
“Where to?” The cabbie walked around the other side without waiting for a response, leaving Webster standing on the sidewalk with his bags.
He was proud of himself for not rolling his eyes before opening the door.
It was a bit awkward with his long legs – he immediately thought of his mother threatening to put a brick over his head one day – but he managed to fold himself into the seat. The ripped cushions stuck to Webster's coat, smelling strongly like cigarettes and gasoline. Shocking.
There was the edge of a photo sticking out one of the compartments, but he didn't have time to dwell on it before the door slammed shut and a monotone voice added to the sounds of traffic and chatter around them.
“Decided where you're going yet?”
“Yeah, uh, I have the address somewhere…” Webster rummaged through his bag for a second, the paper crinkling more than he meant it to.
The driver waited, one hand on the wheel, gaze steady ahead.
“Take your time,” he said. “Meter’s running anyway.”
Not unkind, but not exactly indulgent either.
Webster smiled faintly and fished what he was looking for. He smoothed the paper out on his lap before holding it out. “Can you get me to this place?”
The driver barely glanced at it before nodding and pulling out into the traffic.
Webster exhaled and settled back into his seat. The silence stretched for a while. He watched the city smear past the window: low, pale buildings, wide streets, Jacarandas dotting the roads every now and again. It felt surreal being so far from home, in a place that looked familiar but didn't feel it.
He could hear the driver tap his fingers on the steering wheel. “You're not from around here.”
“No,” Webster admitted with a thin smile, tearing his gaze away from the city. “Is it that obvious?”
“Pretty much.”
“New York,” he offered.
The driver snorted softly. “Yeah, that tracts.”
Something in his tone made Webster glance up, unsure if he'd heard judgement or amusement.
“I'm David,” he added after a moment. “David Webster.”
Testing the waters.
There was a brief pause from the driver's seat.
“Joe,” he revealed finally. “Liebgott.”
Webster tucked the name away immediately. Outside, the light was softening and fading, turning the edges of the buildings golden-yellow. But he wasn't interested in the view anymore.
In the rearview mirror, he was met with brown eyes already staring back at him. Dark, unimpressed, judgemental. But there was also something else in them, a little touch of reluctant interest. Webster looked down again.
“What brings you out here, then?” Liebgott asked. “visiting family or something?” He slouched lower in his seat.
Webster drew in a breath. “No, I'm, uh… taking a break from college.”
“College.” Liebgott repeated flatly. “Which one then?”
Webster turned back to the window, pretending to focus on the blur of traffic.
“Harvard.”
A huff from the driver's seat. It might've been a laugh if it didn't sound so dry. “Could've guessed that.”
Webster frowned.
“You think?”
“Sure,” Liebgott said, glancing around as they stopped at a red light. “You've got that look.”
Webster wasn't sure he wanted to know what that look was. He didn't miss the way Liebgott's eyes slid over his briefcase, his polished shoes, gelled hair, his watch. Right.
He laughed, but the sound was blatantly uncertain. “Is that meant to be an insult?”
Liebgott seemed to consider that for a moment. “Not really,” he shrugged. “Just means you got a bigger headstart than the rest of us."
Webster took a minute to absorb the words, feeling heat creep up his neck. He hated the though of coming off as the private school boys he'd been forced in a class room with year-round. “I don't think that's true.”
“Maybe not,” Liebgott shrugged. “But that's what it looks like.”
For all the words he had studied, Webster didn't know what to say to that. He shifted in his seat, angling himself back towards the window.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
When they reached his destination, Webster gathered his bags quickly and pulled a couple of notes from his wallet before even stepping out. He glanced up at the B&B his father booked. Right. That figures.
It was wealthy. White-trimmed and symmetrical, flowers arranged deliberately, windows glowing softly with warm lights overhead.
Webster winced slightly at the confirmation of everything Liebgott had just decided about him.
“Thanks for the ride,” he sighed, glancing at the driver's seat as he stepped out.
Liebgott just nodded once. “Yep.”
Webster wasn't sure why he lingered there with his bags in the warmth of the evening, listening as Liebgott pulled away and disappeared down the street.