𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐗 // house of wax (2005)

008: the town in the middle of butt fuck nowhere

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CHAPTER EIGHT OF ???

 ❝ the town in the middle of butt fuck nowhere ❞

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THIRD-PERSON POV. THE JANUARY OF 2005. AMBROSE, LOUISIANA.

THE RIDE TO THE SEEMINGLY-MYSTERIOUS TOWN OF AMBROSE WAS NOTHING SHORT OF AWKWARD. Lester sat in the driver's seat, looking at (Name) out of his peripheral vision before looking back out at the road ahead. (Name) sat the closest to Lester, whilst Carly sat on Wade's lap. (Name) fiddled with her thumbs, occasionally looking out the windows. 

The truck had seen better days. And it frankly smelt, but nobody said anything. (Name) eyed a severed pair of deer hooves attached to the rearview mirror. "Can you roll the window down please?" Carly asked, breaking the silence. as Wade tried to roll the window down to get some fresh air into the foul-smelling truck, to no avail.

"Sorry about that," Lester apologised, as the three looked at him. Lester was focused on the road at this point, occasionally sneaking glances at (Name), "Truck's seen better days,". Lester's grin was a morph between impish and boyish, a crossover. It suited him. (Name) casually looked out of the dirty front window, eyeing the clouds. 

"Uh, do you mind rolling down your window then?" Wade sheepishly asked. Lester cast a glance over at Wade, responding with a "not at all", in a Southern drawl, as he rolled down the driver's side window halfway and fresh air flooded the car. (Name) reached into her pocket to get her iPod but then remembered it'd gone. She kept forgetting. 

Her bag sat on the floor between her ankles. It had anything you'd ever need; snack foods, water bottles, a First Aid kit, a map, a flashlight, a phone charger and other trinkets. Oddly, (Name) was staunchly prepared for any scenario, just in case the world ended and she had to live in a post-apocalyptic world forever. Lester kept turning his head to look at (Name), who looked back at him. "Sorry," Lester spoke up, breaking the silence, "I kinda get used to the smell,".

Lester gave (Name) a half-smile, which she returned. Wade and Carly, mostly Carly, were mentally judging (Name), who treated him with kindness. She'd treat those who treated her nicely with kindness and anyone who didn't with violence,  like a kick to the crotch or a punch in the nose. "Really?" (Name) queried, "It'd take me a while to get used to...the smell, no offence,".

"You can get used to anything," Lester mused, "If you're 'round it long enough, sugar,". The truck continued to drive through the country lane, which was surrounded by a seemingly endless forest of towering trees with bright green leaves. (Name) struck up a conversation with Lester about the roadkill. "If you get 'em in the early mornin' before the sun bakes 'em up, they're not too bad. If they're fresh, I just take 'em home. Why waste the meat?".

Lester looked at (Name), hoping to find a nice response from her that deflected the judgy stares from Wade and Carly. "Kickass," (Name) said, "I mean, you do you, man. Your way of living dude, I don't judge you for that. I had an aunt who did taxidermy and I interned at a funeral home,".

Carly frowned at (Name)'s choice of internship during their senior year of high school. "Are we almost there yet?" Carly piped up, clearly eager to get out of Lester's truck and get the fan belt that Wade needed and just forget this whole ordeal ever happened. (Name) didn't blame her.