𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙐𝙥.

Liberation.

I made it.

Those were West's first thoughts as his greyhound bus pulled into the small city of Allentown, Pennsylvania.
They'd left Easton a total of 34 minutes ago, and West had held his breath the entire time, waiting for something to go wrong. The bus conveniently popping all it's tires just before the "You are now leaving Easton" sign...

The driver going into cardiac arrest, colliding into a tree and leaving him and several other passengers with injuries that would require hospitalization... in Easton.
A sudden snow storm overlooked by weathermen, blanketing all the roads out of Easton in sheets of snow, leaving him stranded in the town for the unforeseeable future, never mind that the fall season had literally just begun.
Things that were highly unlikely, but things that West believed could 100% happen to him. He didn't think he had the best luck.

So, reaching the next town, the next state, safely, was a victory for him.

I made it out!

He wasn't thinking about his family back home, even though they were why he wanted, why he had to leave in the first place. He wasn't thinking about how much he'd miss Killian or Brittany, and something in the back of his mind told him he was selfish for that, but he ignored it, choosing to revel in the feeling of liberation instead.
It suddenly felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was free to do whatever the fuck he wanted, he was free to stay away from Easton for how ever long he wanted, he was just free.

Killian texted him 15 hours into his trip, just to check up on him. West couldn't bring himself to reply. He certainly didn't reply to the dozen other texts that followed a few hours later either.
He was finally in a good place. He just wanted to exist in it for a little while longer.

Upon his arrival at his tiny apartment in Ann Arbor, he threw all of his bags into the closet, cracked open a window, then lay onto the carpeted floor on his back, eyes closed, hands joined at the stomach.
He lay there for a while, not thinking about anything at all, just taking everything in. The slow classical music he could hear, albeit feintly, coming from the apartment to his left.
The sounds of the city that he was sure he'd never get used to, cars beeping unrelentingly and people yammering constantly. His place was near the tracks too, so hearing the blaring horns of passing freight trains was a guarantee.

But West knew he still wouldn't trade his new life in the city for anything. He'd put up with all of it.

His phone finally knocked him out of his trance, this time, Killian decided to call. West sat up in one sharp movement then dug into his pocket, quickly, before he missed the call. He didn't check the caller ID, and never anticipated that his boyfriend was on the other line.

Killian: I've been texting you all day! Are you okay? Safe?

He sounded panicked. West felt guilty.

Weston: Yeah. I'm Okay.

West blew out a soft puff of air. How do you tell the boyfriend you supposedly love that you hadn't thought of them once in the past 24 hours. (The answer is, you don't.)

Weston: Just wanted to get settled first, you know.

Killian: Good, good. Cause I was about to drive over there, literally. I have a car now, remember?

Weston: Hehe. Right. Sorry.

Killian went quiet. West was worried that he could sense something wasn't right. So he decided to end the call right then and there.

Weston: Listen, uh, I have to go.

Killian: West--

Weston: I'll call you tomorrow after I sort out my school stuff. Just wanna sleep right now.

Killian: Oh... okay. I love you.

Weston: Me too.

He hung up, then switched his phone off a second later.

What the hell is wrong with me?

West stood up, not answering his own question, to rummage through his closet for a light jacket. He needed some fresh air, he hoped that it would get his head screwed on straight again. Cause he was acting like an idiot.

He stepped outside of his apartment building, thought about getting some food, but ultimately decided against it because it would've gone to waste. He didn't have an appetite, didn't have a refrigerator, either.

The record store two buildings down beckoned to him, though.
It was called "Luke's", quaint and charming with several posters and fairy lights hanging off the walls.
He waved to the girl behind the counter, she was young, probably in her early 20s, pretty too.

West spent quite a bit of time perusing the racks, mostly just admiring the cover art on the records, not really sure what he was looking for, not really recognizing 95% of the artists on display.

"Looking for anything in particular?" The girl asked.

"I don't know..." West shrugged, "I don't even own a record player."

"We carry those. Second-hand, though."

"Maybe I'll get one."

The girl spoke up again, "You know, " She began, eyeing West's outfit, he was wearing something simple; black cargo pants, high top vans, a plain white tee and a red letterman jacket.

"You look like someone that enjoys a good indie band, I could recommend you some if you like."

"Wow, judge a book by it's cover, why don't you." He muttered softly, but it's not like the girl was wrong. He did enjoy a good indie band.

Do people that enjoy indie dress like me?

"What was that?"

"I said that would be... so awesome."

The girl helped him pick a few records from the "$10 or less" rack, some Florence + The Machine, Death Cab For Cutie, Vampire Weekend, Sonic Youth and Muse. These were bands he'd never even heard of, and he let the girl know just as much... she called him an uncultured swine.

The girl rang up all his items, including the cheapest record player the store carried, it was $139 with a built in CD and cassette tape player, no Bluetooth though.

"Is this a new release?" West questioned as he plucked one of the CDs titled "House Of Blues" from a square straw basket with the tag "New Releases" stuck onto it. In his defense, he did not see the tag.

The girl nodded, "Sort of."

She stretched out her arm to hand West his records and his change, "It was recorded live at Myrtle Beach in 1998. Released two weeks ago, though. You into Green Day?"

West almost smiled at that, "Nope."
But he threw the CD in the bag anyway before sliding an additional $20 bill across the counter.
The girl thought West was a bit strange, but that fact wasn't enough to stop her from taking his money. After all, she'd accepted money from even weirder customers before.

"You have a good night, now." He said, before picking up his record player and heading out.

"You too."

The fresh air and friendly conversation with the girl from the record store certainly helped some, but by end of the day, West's heart was still heavy.
He fell asleep to the sounds of heavy guitars playing softly in his room, curled up into a ball on a bed that was too big and tears in his eyes.

But, hey, at least he was finally out of Easton.
_________________________________________

I still suck at first chapters🧍‍♂️