Going My Way (Larry Stylinson)

Driving Styles

The buzzer for the gate sounds out through the open-plan living area, the soaring ceilings and double-height walls of glass doing nothing to absorb the harsh noise. Harry slings his messenger bag over his shoulder and hits the button to let Benny drive through into the courtyard, pocketing his keys and grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl as he passes by on his way to the door.

Silas is still relaying information through Harry's AirPods as he steps outside, slamming his heavy, wooden front door behind him, the oddly chilled LA morning air biting at his face and sending a shiver through his body.

"It's a fucking mess, Harry. How far away are you?" Silas asks down the line, the all too familiar sound of the LAX departures lounge in turmoil nearly drowning him out. The situation is chaotic, that much is clear, and while he can do some things remotely, he really just needs to get there.

Harry strides across his courtyard to Benny's waiting vehicle. "I'm coming as fast as I can. Sadly, my magic carpet is in for repairs," Harry replies, trying to keep the mood light as he pulls opens the front passenger door and dumps his bag onto the floor, sliding into the car. "It'll be fine, just follow the protocols I've set up," he instructs reassuringly as he puts on his seatbelt, not glancing up at his driver. Benny is used to these sorts of early morning calls and mad dash runs to the airport, their easy friendship having developed over the last few months that he's been driving Harry. "Standard messaging at the agreed intervals over the internal comms. I'll take over the socials and web and get the updates going from the car on my way in."

The car drives off slowly and through the gate, turning out onto the street and Harry presses the remote on his keys through his suit pants, checking over his shoulder through his window to make sure the gate is closing before refocusing on the task at hand. He pops his phone in the little holder on his door, reaching down and taking his laptop out of his bag, setting it on his knees and lifting the lid. He connects to the hotspot on his phone and brings up the various browser tabs he'll need to get the messaging going.

"Thanks, Harry, you're a lifesaver," Silas breathes down the line, a hint of relief apparent in his tone. Poor guy. He's doing his best but this kind of situation is enough to rankle even the most cool and collected operators.

"Yeah, yeah. It'll be alright, give me all the details you've got," Harry says and starts typing up some basic notes as the car heads down the winding hills toward LAX.

Ten minutes later he's gotten all the sites updated and drafted a plan of attack for when he arrives. His stomach grumbles and he remembers the banana in his bag. "Silas, I'm gonna jump off for a bit, okay? I'll be there in about ten minutes," he says as he picks up his phone.

"Yeah, okay. See you soon."

Harry ends the call and pops the phone and pods in the breast pocket of his suit, digging into his bag to find the banana. He settles back, peeling it from the bottom as the car comes to a stop at a red light. The sun has barely made its way over the horizon and the subdued light is casting a soft, pink hue over the awakening city. It's peaceful, unlike the situation that awaits him when he arrives at work.

"Sorry about that, Benny. Just another crazy morning. How are you?" Harry asks as he wraps his lips around the banana and turns in his seat. When he sees the man beside him he freezes.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to make eye contact with someone while eating a banana?"

Harry very nearly chokes. That's not Benny.

"You-you're not Benny!" Harry shrieks through a mouthful of food and backs himself into the car door, for what purpose he isn't sure, it's not like that extra three inches is going to make any difference at this point.