Reckless Serenade

six | quinn

vi. in which quinn stevens comes home

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IT HAD ONLY been an hour and a half since I landed on the East Coast and I had already managed to piss somebody off. Taking a sip from the coffee cup - the heat burning the tips of my lips and tongue - I rolled my neck and continued walking along the empty pavements. Some illogical part of my brain assumed that irritation at its finest was perfectly acceptable at the moment. I was pissed, so I let off some steam pissing off someone else. It was just how my thought process worked, as flawed as it was.

Unfortunately, the thought hadn't occurred to me until I turned the corner of a desolate block that perhaps I was a little cruel. It didn't matter though, because I doubt I would ever see the barista ever again. I was planning on spending the night at Jared's before clocking out and finding another empty city to trash. I already felt the ghosts of my past creeping and silently stalking behind, making sure each step I took was filled with a silent musing of dread and suffering. It pained me to stand here in the shadows of past.

Hugging my arms around my bare shoulders, I forgot how cold it was back in my home town. I didn't come prepared, merely shoving random articles of clothing in a blinding rage into my bag before departing for the airport. I didn't even pack a sweater or anything warm. With a single case of luggage and my guitar case, that was all Somerset was greeted with as soon as I passed the borders. Blowing out a sigh, the breath collided with the frigid air surrounding me, creating soft clouds of exhalation.

Perhaps I needed a sense of reckless abandonment but I found myself drifting off the curb, sidestepping onto the slick black surface. No cars were in sight for miles. My boots thumped against the road, finding myself walking straight down the middle with one foot in front of the other, tracing the yellow lines that dotted the street.

Swinging my arms like I used to when I was younger, I peered through the sunglasses which made the shadowy night seem darker than it actually was. I thought about removing them since the sun was clearly finished slipping beneath the horizon, but the muse drifted away after a moment's hesitation. The world behind the glasses were tinged with amber, setting fire to the earth and distorting my surroundings. It all seemed very make-believe; I often felt like I was trapped in a fairytale whenever I wore the hand me down pair given to me by Jared.

Streetlights shined stoically on each side of me, standing an impassive guard as they lit up the obsidian road. I swung my hands out farther, making sure the coffee didn't spill, mimicking an airplane as the lights became my runway. Smiling softly, I recalled the easier days when none of my problems existed. It was unfortunate I had to grow up before I could get the chance to enjoy it.

Slowly a frown formed on my face before all signs of the sincere smile disappeared from sight like it always did. Putting up my facade once again, I lowered my arms reluctantly and took another sip of the coffee. It was actually decent; I wouldn't give that boy, Oliver, the satisfaction of admitting it was actually delicious, even if he weren't around to hear the victory. Despite messing up my order, I liked how it tasted without everything else: simple and sweet, like the taste of autumn itself.

Pretty soon, I found myself drifting back to the sidewalk as cars began to appear at the end of the street, signalling how close I was to my destination. Only about fifteen minutes away from Java the Hut, the familiarity of Main Street had my heart seizing. Though it was only the middle of November, the streets were lit up with Christmas decorations. Trees that guarded the boundaries between each store were decorated with lights, which flashed green and red with the occasional blue. The stores themselves varied, some were decked out with posters and lights and blow up dolls, while the others hadn't bothered to catch up with the sudden holiday switch and still had jack 'o' lanterns propped on the steps. Cars of all sizes and colors littered the curb, parallel-parked to perfection. It felt like home.