Chapter Text
By now, the fatigue is officially set in. You've been working for 5 hours, standing in the same room.
Signing up for this haunted house was an awesome idea but geez are you tired. Your dad had suggested it to you, saying it was a good way to earn some money after your summer internship at the coffee shop. The thin ragged lab coat hanging off your body doesn't provide much warmth against the 45 degree weather. You take advantage of what little alone time you have and rub your arms up and down, trying to warm up.
If your estimation is right, it's about midnight by now. The last customers should be scurrying through your room and then you can finally go home.
The white wig is starting to itch, and your fingertips have turned dark from rubbing the black makeup decorating your eyes.
You resist the urge to drum your fingers against the row of lockers you're hiding behind. Usually someone will have come through by now. Maybe there's a hold up in the line. You're about to break a rule and pull your phone out when you hear the creaking of the floor in the other room, someone to scare!
They're hesitant, like most other people, and take their time coming around the corner. It sounds like a group of three, the standard.
One girl says to another, 'that wasn't so bad', and you take that as your cue.
You slam your fist on the lockers, and yell, 'Care for a checkup??'
The two girls rush out of the room as fast as they can, but the third person is frozen in fear. You move closer to get him out of the room, and that's when you get a good look at him.
He's staring at you, stiff from head to toe. His blonde hair is blinding in the strobe light, but you only see your own reflection in his pair of mirrored sunglasses. Uh, wow. You can't break character, but you want to so badly. This stranger has an air about him, and he is kind of adorable when he's petrified in fear.
Stopping for a moment, you look him up and down. If you didn't know any better, you might say he was...
Holy shit, your first whizzer!
A stain of liquid is traveling quite rapidly down this young man's thigh. He looks down at himself in disbelief and runs away before you can say anything else.
Despite how proud you are of this incredible feat, you can't help but feel a little bad as you return back to your hiding spot. The urge to chase after him is so strong you can feel your heart trying to leap out of your chest. If it weren't for those dumb security cameras...
A creak from the next room over and you prepare another bang. The footsteps confidently stride into your room. That's different.
Just as a woman's voice starts speaking, you slam against the lockers and say your line.
With a laugh, she speaks again, "It's just me John. That was your last one of the night, go get washed up and remember to check out."
Oh. "Thanks Cindy!" Maybe you can catch up with that boy outside!
You hurry through one of the emergency exits, ripping off your wig and lab coat, exchanging them for a heavy sweatshirt. The line for check out is too long so you figure you can just do it later. 1
Scanning the fairground for that pair of sunglasses, you wonder if he's still here. Tonight your station was in the middle of the house, so you have a good chance.
You maneuver through the crowd of your co-workers and go over to the entrance of the parking lot. The cold wind still bites into your body as you wish people a good night and a 'Happy Halloween!'
Finally, after five minutes of waiting, you spot the boy you're looking for. He speed walks over to a nearby tree and leans against it, pulling out his phone.
You realize he doesn't know you're watching him the same moment he realizes there's no way he's going to get a signal out here.
He lets out a frustrated groan and you take it as a cue to walk over.
"Hey, something wrong?" He doesn't see you at first, but when he does, he goes stiff again.
"Oops! I forgot I still have my makeup on. Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He eases up at your words but still doesn't make eye contact.
"I don't have any signal out here, so I can't call my dickhole brother to come pick me up."
"So you need a ride? Where do you live?" then you realize what you've just said, "Uh, if that's not too creepy."
He doesn't say anything for a short while, but when he tells you his address, it's not even that far from where you live!
"Um, are you sure you want to give me a ride? I'll mess up your car, because, you know."
"Oh my god, I am so sorry about that. It's the first time anyone has ever peed because of me!" Even if you are genuinely sorry, it's still an exciting thing that happened.
"Please, say it louder so that everyone knows."
You cover your mouth in embarrassment, "Sorry!"
"I guess now that we've passed the stage of bodily fluids, you might as well know my name. I'm Dave."
Dave, you hope you'll be hearing that name a lot in the future.
"Hi Dave, I'm John. And don't worry. I have a blanket you can sit on."
"...Okay. Not to be pushy but can we get going? I'm freezing." You notice his thin long sleeve and start a mental check list.
"Follow me."
You head over to your car in the parking lot and unlock it, tossing Dave the keys.
"I'll be right back, I still need to check out." You turn around, walking a few steps before turning back to the other boy. You shrug off your sweatshirt and throw it to him without a word. He probably needs it more than you anyway.
Once you make it back from checkout, the car window's are slightly fogged up with heat. The warmth washes over you as you open the car door and hop in. Dave is in the passenger seat, curled up in your sweatshirt and on top of the blanket that had been in the back seat.
"Ready to go?"
He nods, so you start the car up and pull out of the parking lot. Dave seems content to stare out the window, but you can't resist turning on some music to clear the air. 'Cosmic Girl' by Jamiroquai fills the two door with arguably more tension than was in it before. But you can't bring yourself to turn off the music right after turning it on.
The boy next to you doesn't seem to mind, or at least he doesn't show it. If you didn't know any better you might say there's a slight smile creeping up his face.
For a happy medium, you turn the music down, "Uh, what do you like to do?"
"One of my favorite interests is not pissing my pants in public. Not getting rides from strangers while having wet pants is also another one of my niche hobbies."
You laugh heartily, "Are you always this funny?"
"You tell me, Cosmic Girl."
"It's a good song!"
"Yeah sure, can I browse your library and dig up some other dusty gems?"
The ride home is still another twenty minutes so you hand him your phone.
"The Ghostbusters Theme Song?" he asks with a disbelieving tone.
You flush. "That's a good song too!"
He hums in response, going back to your iTunes library.
Without another word, 'American Boy' by Estelle replaces the silence.
Fuck it, you're probably never gonna see this guy again; you start signing along with the song. Going along to the beat on the steering wheel, you start getting really into it. The roads look pretty empty this late as night...
Against your better judgement, you swerve the car the the beat, something you've only seen done before in movies.
Dave clenches the door handle and laughs, "Bro, chill."
You take his advice and 'chill'. The car goes back into the designated lane and the last verse fades away.
He unplugs the aux cord from your phone and into his. A few seconds of fumbling later and a song you've never heard before travels through your speakers.
"'Hold On' by Rusko, one of my favorites." The electronic music makes you want to do something crazy. However, it also reminds you that you hardly know Dave, like at all. So instead, you listen to the music without saying a word, enjoying the buzz it puts under your skin.
As soon as that one fades, something sorta like country starts playing. Oh no, he's not one of...
But then it changes, it's some sort of weird electronic country thing. You turn to Dave, wanting to ask him what it's called, but he's answering before you even open your mouth.
"'Down the Road' by C2C. I would put it in my top ten list," he says.
You nod in understanding, attempting to place it visually in your mind. What would a music video to this song even sound like?
The common theme seems to be listening to the songs in silence, letting the words wash over, and hoping the meanings stick.
By now, you're closing in on Dave's house. You would venture to guess that it's about one song away.
"Hey, put your phone on shuffle, and play the first song that comes up, no skipping."
He stares at you for a moment before he fiddles with his phone.
There's nothing playing yet but Dave lets out a groan.
"Can I get one skip?"
"How bad is it?"
"Taylor Swift."
"What?? Taylor Swift is awesome, play it!"
"...Fine."
'Wildest Dreams' by Taylor Swift fills the too hot car, and you instantly recognize it.
Isn't it funny how almost every song is relatable to the current situation you're in?
Well, here you are. Sitting in a car with a stranger, a hot stranger at that. And you can't help but picture Dave's face as Taylor sings. This was just supposed to be a good deed, because you're a good kid who gives rides to people who need them.
You'd love to see Dave again.
You'd love to memorize how his voice sounds.
You'd love to see Dave curled up in your sheets.
You'd love to pretend this was more than something out of courtesy.
Uuuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhh. Emotions are dumb.
You ask Dave for clarification on his address even though you have it committed to memory.
The car pulls into his driveway just as Taylor is finishing her last verse.
One wistful glance to Dave before unlocking the car.
Two blinks before he unbuckles his seatbelt.
Three heartbeats as he thanks you.
Four nervous taps on the steering wheel as you assure him it was no trouble.
Five fingers running through your hair as he climbs out.
Six raindrops hit your windshield before he slams the door.
Seven steps for him to reach the front of his house.
Eight seconds of fumbling for his keys.
Nine blinks before you back out of the driveway.
Ten half-minutes until you're sitting in your own driveway, wondering if you'll ever see him again.