3 am; joji miller

2.4

     We drove. And drove. And drove a little bit more. We had been on the road for at least 3 hours. I was exhausted, but I had to keep driving because Joji was shit at stick.
  
     I looked over, and he was passed out. He had to be exhausted as well. I was gonna wake him, but I decided to let him sleep. I looked at the clock, it was almost 3:00 a.m.
  
     It was starting to get really hot. I reached down to turn on the A/C, but accidentally turned on the radio. I still don't have any clue how I managed to do that.
  
      I immediately turned it off, but it was too late. Joji rose up out of the lowered seat with sleepy eyes.
  
     "I'm sorry, I meant to turn on the A/C. But it's a good thing you're awake," I said, turning my attention from him to the road.
  
     "It's okay. I needed to wake up. What do you need?" He asked, looking slightly concerned.
  
     "Well, I just need to know where you wanna stop, if you even wanna stop tonight."
  
     "Keep driving a ways, I think I saw a sign with a hotel on it about 37 miles from there. Once we get there we can call Ian and see what we can do about our stuff back at the other hotel."
  
     "And maybe find some Aspirin, my head's pounding."
  
     "Mine too. So does my chest," he said putting a hand over the place where his bullet wound was.
  
     "Aw, whatta badass. Bullet wounds and cigs should be the name of your autobiography. Speaking of which, check around the car and see if you can find a pack in here. I need one." I opened the compartment that was between him and I.
  
     He looked around and then opened the glove box.
  
     "Bingo," he said. He opened it and pulled out a lighter and two cigarettes. He put one in his mouth and lit it, he inhaled once and then handed it to me. He lit the other one and kept it for himself.
  
     "You know," he said, exhaling and putting the cancer stick between his fingers, "The fag that owns this car probably has a fuck ton of money and doesn't have a care in the world. Must be nice." He put the cig between his lips.
   
     "Yeah, must be," I said. I reached back down and turned the radio on (intentionally) again. I flipped the stations until I finally found one that had music that I could actually understand. 'Dream On' by Aerosmith was playing.
  
     "You know I completely forgot about this song until that Rob Zombie movie. I forgot how iconic it was," I said taking another inhale of the toxic fumes.
  
     "Honestly, I did too. I'd legit suck Steve Tyler, no questions asked," Joji said, taking a final hit and flicking his cigarette out the window.
  
      "Fucking fag," I said jokingly, finishing my cigarette as well and doing the same as Joji.
  
     "Rose, I just wanna say I'm-,"
  
     "George, stop. I don't want anymore apologies. You couldn't have predicted this. Who the fuck would've thought we'd ever get stuck in Japan?"
   
     "I know but, I can't help but feel awful. This is all my fault, and you know it."

      There was a little bit of awkward silence before I finally spoke up.
  
     "I've got a question for you."
   
      "What's that?"
   
      "You know, when we were in the jail cell, that first night-,"
   
      "Yeah."
   
     "That guy that was sitting next to me, he said that you had been in there before. Why'd they let you out if they suspected you were part of this whole thing?"
   
     "Well, the cops never had evidence against me. And when they made me take drug tests, they came back clean because I never did any. To be honest with you, I've never really done anything. That shit scares me."
   
     "So what'd you do for them? I mean, for Scar and his people."
   
     "I was kind of their errand boy. I'd make deliveries, set up dates and times, when and wheres, that kinda thing. But that made me one of the most vulnerable. There were three of us. Me, a guy named Tony, and a chick named Carolyn."
   
     He pulled out another cigarette, offering one to me, but I declined. Then he continued his story.
  
     "Tony, I have no clue why he got mixed up with them. He was a little younger than me. He seemed like a good kid, nice, had manners. He didn't belong with us. And her, god..." He took a minute to hit the cig before starting up again.
   
     "She was a total mess. She was probably about mid thirties. She had this awful, messy, dark red hair. Her eyes always had dark circles under them. She always wore this nasty white tank top, and raggedy jeans. She had issues. She'd go off about the dumbest things. She'd always try and get one of us to go to the back with her and "check stock." She tried with me multiple times. Guessing she had daddy issues. The only thing that makes sense," he said shrugging, and continuing to smoke his second cigarette.
   
     I chuckled a little bit. "Joj, what exit do I need to get off at?" I asked, noticing the signs. He glanced out and looked for more that had hotels on it.
   
     "You're gonna take the second exit on your right, so go ahead and get over," he said. I merged into the right lane and was just about to get on the exit.
   
      *pop*
  
     The front of the car started smoking. We pulled over on the side of the road. There were no cars in sight and we couldn't see anything.
   
     "Fuck me," I said in frustration, slamming my hands on the wheel am putting it in park.
  
     "See Rose, I would, but we've got bigger things to worry about at the moment," George said looking at my and smirking at his own joke.
  
     "George!" I said and pushed his shoulder, rolling my eyes. He started laughing.
  
     "How are you laughing right now? George, we're absolutely screwed! What the hell are we gonna do?" I said, staring at him.
  
     "You wanna know why I'm laughing?" He said, looking at me.
  
     "Yeah, I do actually."
  
     "The reason I'm laughing, Rose, is because we're okay."
   
     "What?"
   
     "We're okay, Rose. Right now, in this moment. We're okay. After everything we've been through, everything we've done. It's all lead up to this moment. And we're okay."
  
     The tears started again in my eyes. I looked at him. I smiled softly at him. I stared into his dark eyes.
  
     "I love you. I love you, George Miller."
  
     I leaned over the seat and planted my lips on his. He welcomed the kiss. His hand found it way on the back of my head. He gently pulled me closer to him.
    
     He finally pulled away from me. He stared into my eyes.
   
     "I love you. I love you, Rose James."