8 - highways i call home
Obsidian had turned out all the lights (except one, the actual ghost light), shut off all the boards, locked the front door and side door, and other side door, and checked the closing down list in the booth once more before locking that too.
"Thanks again for offering to drive," Obsidian says while hex locks the last door, a back entrance to the greenroom.
"Yeah it's no big deal, my car's just down the block," Lyre gestures to turn and they head into the alleyway
"I don't normally need a lift it's just- my car is in the shop right now."
"Dang. What's the fix for?" Lyre asks
"Oh hell if I know. I'm not that kind of technician," hex scoffs, "I'm just trying to make it out here."
"Oh I get it." Lyre nods, "Even the brightest of us are just trying to make it."
They walk along in silence. Not any kind of awkward silence, rather a shared solidarity that each person has their own story and their own troubles but both just need to get through the night. Into the silence comes the steady drone of crickets off, somewhere, and the din of cars on overpasses. The sun has gone down now and the sky has gone past that bright shining blue of after glow as the first stars make their nightly debut, now full constellations can be carefully picked out from beyond the light pollution.
"Here we are," Lyre stops in front of a faded red Toyota Camry and fishes his keys from his pockets. "C'mon you can get in. I won't bite and neither will the car." he says while walking to the back and popping the trunk. Obsidian hesitates and waits for him to put his guitar in the back.
Lyre notices that hex's still standing there so he gently says, "Take shotgun so you can um y'know gimme directions,"
Lyre's car was musty hex can tell this smells like here, like this car that's been time and time again packed full of kids and their instruments and all the soda spills and sharpie doodles that come with them.
"Here you can put in the directions," Lyre hands the GPS to Obsidian, hex types in the apartment number and double checks the map looks right. With so many moves the addresses in hext head can get jumbled but this looks right.
"Oh hey, that's near the Guitar Center, I used to go this way all the time,"
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, one of my exes and their boyfriend both worked there, it was a long time ago,"
"That's nice that you remember, I don't know the area very well, I moved here a few months ago,"
"Oh! Well then welcome! I mean not much to see," Lyre turned onto the highway and now they were above everything. "I've lived here for forever I don't think I'll ever get out."
"Hmm, I've moved around a lot, temp jobs you know?"
Lyre shrugs, "I've been at the same fabrication place since I got weld certified. I mean I started with doing under the table work, too young to be official."
"Mhm, that's really cool. My theater shut down when everything went under, been doing data entry and phone banks and stuff."
"Oh, damn. Well, you're here now,"
"Yeah, yeah I am," Obsidian smiles slightly and looks out the window but it is dark enough hex could mostly just sees Lyre's reflection. Hex turns to look at him and he glances at hex, smiling, then focusing back on the road.
"I think um, well, you're in good hands with The Lady, you're a bone in her skeleton now y'know?"
Obsidian unraveled faer words and then nodded, "Yeah, yeah I am,"
"I guessed because you did the closing shift. Well if you're in the skeleton you won't be tossed around like a temp job. They need you, we need you. Kids come out to hear the music, you make that happen."
"That I do." Obsidian nodded. Hex was often one to deflect compliments but hex was always confident about hext job, hex knew it inside out and backwards.
"Wanna put something on? I mean like," Lyre glanced at hex, "I got to see your music, you can see mine."
"Alright," Obsidian smiled and fiddled with faer mp3 player which was hooked up to the car stereo. "You know usually when I'm given the aux cable it's to plug it in,"
Lyre giggles at the pun then suddenly quiets when the song comes on, one of their favorites. They drove without talking, just listening.