and the stars will all come out

chapter twenty-two! ☆

FOR DAVE, THE LAST FEW HOURS HAD BEEN A BLUR.

By the time the sky had darkened and stars had scattered throughout the sky, he'd ended up in a shitty motel in a bleak corner of Alexandria he'd never been in before. A tray of Chinese takeout was abandoned on the bed, and Dave hadn't been outside of the room for hours, not even to smoke. This was a much more intense form of self-hatred than he was used to. The cabin had to be at least an hour away, but he didn't even care: he wanted to be as far away from everyone as possible.

Away from the people he could hurt. Jesus Christ.

His heartbeat had since slowed to its normal rate, but his mind was still racing with thoughts, and now he was starting up at the unfamiliar water-stained ceiling, stumped.

If he wanted to be as far away as possible, where would he go?

He'd have to call Nate or Taylor in a bit, so they wouldn't be worried about him. But for now, Dave was condemning himself to stay here, inside of this shitty motel room. He didn't feel comfortable returning to the cabin just yet, he'd been such an idiot.

Then it hit him.

Fuck Los Angeles, and fuck Virginia.

He should've done this ages ago.

☆

 IN DAVE'S ABSENCE, AND WITH HOPE STILL BEING MAD AT HER, LANDRY HAD OFFICIALLY DECIDED TO SCREW IT AND STAY AT THE CABIN.

She didn't know when Dave was coming back, and she didn't know how long she would be staying, so in a weird, emotionally-charged, fucked up way, they were even. She hadn't experienced this level of emotional turmoil in years, but they were even.

After she'd recovered from the shock of him walking out on her, it had taken little time to pack her duffel bag back at the apartment and return to the cabin. She drove herself, but Taylor insisted on riding shotgun and talked her ear off, like he was trying to make up for something. Landry didn't blame him. The cabin definitely felt different in Dave's absence, almost as though a key element had vanished.

She kept holding her breath. Part of her was expecting to hear the telltale sounds of Dave trampling back downstairs, but several hours passed with the stairs remaining untrampled.

It made her sick to think about. But he had to come back at some point, right?

Still trying to make up for his disappearance, Taylor was dancing around in the kitchen, cooking pasta for dinner. It was the first time she'd ever seen Taylor cook.

"Gonna put the tomato sauce in the pan," he commentated brightly as he dumped a small jar of tomato sauce into the pan of sizzling ground beef, "Gonna stir it around real good..."

Landry was beside him, silent as he stirred the tomato sauce with a spatula. The bags underneath her eyes were still aching from crying so hard earlier, and she couldn't drop the feeling that none of this was real - like he was only acting extra silly in order to cheer her up. It only made her feel worse.

Noticing that she hadn't said anything in a while, Taylor dropped the spatula and reached for her hand, grinning unabashedly. "Dance break, bro!"

Conveniently enough, the Bee Gees were blasting on the stereo downstairs, loud enough for it to bleed upstairs into the kitchen, loud and clear as though the band was playing beside them. Man, Taylor always loved the 70s.

Today might have been depressing, but she couldn't help but laugh as he led her into a twirl with "You Should Be Dancing" blaring downstairs, then launched into a series of dance moves that could only be described as an octopus trying to breakdance.