Right On The Money Honey - Michael Hardy

FIVE

"I hope you hate your hometown, every brick, every acre. Hope they shut all the bars down, rename all the streets

I hope it looks like a ghost town and you feel like a stranger. Then you turn your car around, get pissed off and leave. I hope you hate your hometown then come back to me..."

"Man, I got goosebumps!" Morgan shouts. He's standing behind Cliff while Michael is in the booth recording a song he wrote the night Liz left. "That's a killer track!"

"I fuckin' miss her, man." Michael admits.

Morgan snickers at his words earning a light hit to the belly. "Go see her, then." He shrugs, taking a drink from a water bottle. "She told you you're welcome to go down, right?"

"Yeah but I don't want to, y'know, seem desperate." He looks down at his sneakers. "She's a great girl, I don't want to fuck it up."

"Hardy, believe me. If you don't go see her, you're fuckin it up." Cliff mumbles something in agreement as he's preoccupied with the soundboard in front of him. "How long has it been?"

"Few months."

"So go see her."

He sighs as he uses the hem of his shirt to clean the lenses of his glasses. "Fine. I'll go to Texas and see my girlfriend." Morgan giggles childishly as he wraps an arm around his best friend's shoulders.

+++

Elizabeth sighs as she steps out of the shower and pulls on her short robe, wrapping a towel around her dark hair. She jumps slightly when her doorbell goes off. She makes her way to the front door and swings it open.

"Michael? What're you doin' here?" She grins, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

"Surprise." He says sheepishly.

"Oh, come in." She steps back inside. "Sorry about the mess." She says as she kicks a pair of shoes out of her way. Michael takes in her place and smiles. It's a cute little house, open yet cozy. "I'll- I'll give you a tour in a bit. I gotta dressed and stuff. Make yourself at home."

Michael nods as she heads down the hallway to her only bathroom. He looks around her living room and over the many pictures and artwork on display. He sees a picture of a slightly younger looking Liz with that guy from her Instagram page standing together with fireworks in the background. His sights shift to an old faded picture of a young couple, the man in it is wearing an army uniform and the woman has the same smile as Liz.

"Sorry." Liz says, clearing her throat.

"It's all good." He says as he picks up the frame of her and that guy. "Who's this? A brother?"

"Uh, no." He sees her face drop slightly. "That's Dylan." She sighs. "My ex-boyfriend."

"Why do you have a picture of your ex?" He asks in a calm voice. He's not upset, he's just curious.

She clears her throat again. "He died when we was datin'."

"Shit."

"Yeah." She takes the picture frame from him. She looks it over before she carefully puts it back in its spot on the shelf. "It is what it is." She shrugs, her eyes still on the picture. "C'mon." He follows her to the small kitchen and leans against the counter. 

"What happened to him, if you don't mind me askin'?"

She takes a deep breath. "Car wreck." Michael nods and sits at the table with her. "It was senior year of high school. Dylan was leavin' my house around two in the mornin' and this drunk asshole came around the curve real fast and down the middle of the road and hit 'em head on." She clears her throat, tears in her eyes. "He overcorrected and went off the road, wrapped around a tree and- and-" She cuts herself off with a body wracking sob, her head in her hands.