Chapter 1
"One of you must be a stalker, I mean– give me a better explanation,"
"You mean the world telling me to run? Or check my horoscope often?" Karen chuckles, discreetly swiping the booze.
"Bottle aesthetics don't fit you," snagging it back from her hands, -"you are too fancy."
"I sure am, thank you," her laughter is a well organised symphony.
"False claims, an implanted thought would be more accurate," Adrian leans out from a row back, arm slung around the chair in front -"I suggested the trip when we were together. And you knew I wanted to go for a break myself – coincidence it's called."
"Just girl talk, besides conspiracy theories are the most fun speculating over," Lily peaks up from her chair.
"Ohh he enjoys it we are rubbing his ego and can't help but inject himself into the conversation."
"Now that is correct, and I am used to people talking about me – such a perfect specimen," he winks at them before reclining back into the chair.
Dusk brought a starless night, bewildering when Boston lay only two hours out, if she knew more about astrology perhaps the moon was crescent — halcyon days seemed long gone outside the murky windows. About a quarter past midnight, she can't say if the bus or her heart skipped harder. Floor vibrates beneath their feet before coming to a dead stop; all goes pitch black. White snowflakes glow outside, slowly retreating to the ground, an eerie silence settles over them for one or two breaths.
"Why aren't the wheels of the bus going freaking round and round?" Tension bundled into the misty air, either it was the blood in her veins or the air, she shivered.
"Mechanical problem?" A whisper fills the bus, in the front there's shuffling; light shines over them.
"We seem to have some engine troubles, the way it went out we are tipping towards engine problems," some voices buzz between them, most of them tired from the trip. -"We are going to arrange a stay overnight, but we'll have to walk the last few minutes." Their tour guide, whose name is forgotten, the swallowing darkness shielding her name tag informs them calmly.
Back in her childhood town the house down the street frequently sported a for-sale sign; withered, chipped paint on rotting wood, original wall-paper since late 1800. Imagine the secrets dormant inside, she had been enthralled by the mystique — a charm which couldn't be recreated. Baba spread stories, intriguing her when it was a warning to stay away. A house no one stayed at long enough for the sign to come down.
Snow had lightly dusted the vacant streets, between broken streetlights, and a mist right out of a Stephen King novel; sight was limited. The tour guide leads them up to the steps of a motel.
"Quaint, – in an armageddon sort of vibe; very fab, love it," coats tugged tighter in anticipation of the warmth inside.
"Need the number to their interior designer," Fletcher gave the area a once over before looking back at her with a quick smile.
"Did you watch the purge? Is this another serien?"
"Got an eye for scouting, this would be a rather nice fit," thick posh English accent, he really didn't seem to mind being there. -"Is this sort of a common rural town here in America."
"Nope, more shabby chic, rusty sort of deal – give it a year it will be a trend among millenials," she tips up on her toes when the hosts come out to greet them.
"Do you think they have a Target store here?" Lily flashes a smile at Karen, at least there's someone who can talk to a manager with them. She looks back towards the streets before entering, gazing at their footprints left behind, otherwise untouched snow lit up the grey town.
Hands fumbling after her phone, squinting at the bright screen 03:01 — great, witching hour. Babushka always nagged about the bad omens, that she shouldn't be dismissive, the forces of the universe; she believed more in the force from star wars. Gradually her sight adjusts, the black void turns into a murky room; abruptly she's propped, weight rested on her left arm. Eyes wide, tassels of dark hair trickle down over her shoulder — stomach in a knot.
"Better be you babushka–" convincing herself that the ajar door had been left by herself, but there was no good reason. Carefully moving off the bed, grabbing her coat on the way towards the door; phone tucked tightly between her hands. There were no such things as monsters, just shadows out there, everything is the same in daylight; nails digging into her palms—
"For fucks sake Fletcher!" Bent forward, face turned a slight shade lighter — she breathed, -"why are you sneaking around in the night?"
"Sorry, not accustomed to sleeping away from home," he places a hand on her shoulder, -"are you okay, gave you a fright."
"Yeah, yeah, I am just jumpy lately," she looks up at his rum colored eyes, hands tucked between his sides. -"Never slept in a motel before? Not even you know prom night–"
"Why would prom equal a stay at a motel?" He knits his caterpillar eyebrows and— "ohhh, no, now we are on the same page, but no, the chaperones would never allow it."
"Such an innocent soul you are," she muses, pushing hair out of her face, -"at least it's you and not rats waking me."
"Could be compared to worse, couldn't I?"
"Much Fletcher, much," she gives a tired smile -"run along now Potter and next time use your invisibility cloak – then a heart attack won't loom over me." He scratches his face, eyes squinting slightly.
"I said you look shitty. Good night, Denise." One could think with the oozing confidence on that one line that she would chuckle with him. -"Really you've never watched 'hot rod'? You should, it would be right down your alley I think."
"Okay weirdo I'll look it up," she has a hint of a smile, fingers gripping the door.
"You get to do a thousand movie quotes and I am weird for delivering one?" He chuckles after her.
"Just no here's Johnny please," there was only so much a fragile heart could take.
Mornings here are not remarkable, the rest of the night had been silent — boiling it down to mind ghosts of the past haunting her. Windows are frosted, old and losing the battle of keeping an even temperature. The old motel creaks peacefully, she always loved the sound of old buildings.
"Good morning," there's a knock on the door before Karen enters, a wide smile, perfect locks and a glowing presence; who the heck has the energy that early?
"Morning doll, you look especially pretty if that's for me?" Spread out on the bed she nods at one of the cups in her hands.
"Certainly is not for Adrian," she muses when Lily pats the bed.
"He has made a poor life choice, I rejoice in his misery," coffee tastes bitter, just the way she loves it.
"Mutual actually, not that it matters," shoulder's shrug, -"just didn't feel like seeing his face this morning."
"That's sad, seems to be the one big thing he has going for him."
"Thank you for your support, I bet you are a great friend," she crosses her legs and takes a sip of her own coffee.
"Only because you got me coffee – so what do you think of this place?"
"Not much for my instagram, but I thought I would use the time responding to fans."
"Heavy is the burden," seeing her here just confirmed how cherry picked pictures on social media were. But really weren't all work the same, you cherry pick to represent the company; she was her own company. -"Might take a look at the breakfast spread myself, good-luck getting a signal."
"Forget restricted diet, but it's only for a day, I can survive," Karen declared, more to herself than anyone else.
Awake and curious, the night had brought a plethora of dreams tangled within each other — grateful not being alone, happy everyone she met here were strangers. -"Got any good inspo? It's almost dream like, a half remembered story when you wake up," she sits down on the opposite side, a cup of coffee going cold by her side.
"A fever dream," the man indulges her with a kind, polite smile. Dawn was a fog, afternoon seemed to follow in the same steps, wondering if there was ever a sunny day here. Thomas has a notepad, writing in the margins, highly author like of him. -"It has a stillness unlike any other place – it's growing on me."
"City boy?"
"Yes and no, born there but my soul doesn't belong," he has a muffled laugh and genuine eyes, -"what are you?"
"Small town girl, I don't think it exceeds a thousand people in population,"
"sounds peaceful," he leans forward.
"Almost never and also always, I thought I would go treasure hunting for some books," Lily sips on the coffee.
"Thinking I would already have scouted them out?"
"No just felt chatty, history major, feels as if there would be some hidden gems in a town like this," she shrugs her shoulders.
"I would not have pegged you for a history buff," often there were secrets written down and forgotten about, personal; without being a part of the big picture.
"Biology as well actually, I still feel like a stranger to myself – which is somewhat deep to talk to a stranger about," she taps her nails against the table as she gets up. -"I'll keep you informed about the books whether you care or not," Lily smiles at him, useless words swallowed by silence; maybe if you knew better words your sentences would have a meaning. Or so she wonders.
There has only been a few selected words spoken with Hayley; bare feet on hot concrete, she's out of there before they sizzle. The young girl has an exhausted look, pulling back whenever someone steps forward. A look which resonated with Lily, she knew it without accepting it.
"Day drinking over a book?" Fletcher has his hands in his pocket and it should be called a boyish smile; one which your boyfriend in highschool had given before panties dropped. All girls went through that stage, when it was still heart-throbbing having a guy smile.
"My options were limited, just a pre-party drink, to loosen me up," the glas wiggles between them in her hand.
"Jesus knows you do not need that," tucking at his trousers, avoiding any wrinkles before half sitting on the table.
"I think they booked me on the wrong tour, everyone else are refined and sophisticated – here I am day drinking with a redneck accent," she chuckles.
"Everyone tells me an accent is charming."
"Sweet summer child, women from America will swoon for your English one, but that is like comparing classic star wars with the new additions."
"Yikes, that is bad," he pulls a face while still looking charming which is just silly.
"Uhhh-huuuh, I know, so don't come here trying to be all nice without knowing facts."
"Highly ill-mannered of me," there it was again a boyish smile.
"Almost as if the queen taught you nothing at all," Lily hides a grin behind a sip of her drink.
"Isn't it worse that America still hasn't built a wall," she couldn't contain spitting her drink luckily not at him.
"They would probably leave me on the other side the day it happens."
"Quite so, I would have to agree," he hands her a napkin, as if everyone still walked around with one these days.
Wooden floor creaks, hidden pockets of time and space, growing day by day; the night would fill them with conversations that would never be spoken again.
"Must have been frightening, middle of the night and out in nowhere," Freya is a doe-eyed, soft spoken woman, hand on her heart when sneaking.
"Tourguide must have known about this town beforehand Freya, nothing to huff over," Raquel speaks rapidly, with a hand on her friend's upper arm.
"We were mostly tired, I barely registrerad what was happening," Karen smiles politely at them.
"Also, it's a little adventure, divert from reality," Lily leans against Karen catching her eye, it'd be a lie to say you had hated the detour.
"Life gives us pockets of magical moments," Freya suggests with a slow glance from Raquel.
"Do you enjoy living here?"
"Would be all we know, so what would we compare it with?"
"Most people are born here, not many outsiders even pass by," Freya adds after her friend; you wonder over the choices of words.
"Guess we are outsiders," Karen catches the phrase with a hard to read between the lines expression while speaking. -" Getting a new drink," nodding towards her while leaving.
The pressing feeling in the room can't be ignored, she reasons it away because everyone are just getting to know each other. Freya gives her some insight on the nature around the town, enthusiastic about the subject which she shares with her sisters. Raquel and Luke speak over each other, inside jokes passing by in the conversation. Undoctored joy between them, putting a longing for her own family. Somewhere she ends up speaking to Adrian and Luke.
"What about you, haven't heard you speak much about yourself," Adrian prompts her with a sly smile.
"Here we pour our hearts out, well nearly," Luke agrees in one breath. (There's a white noise, been sticking with you all night, eyes following you like a fox. Whenever you look over your shoulder it's gone, an uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat.) -"She was probably prom queen and got the King." She directs her attention back to Luke.
"Voted most popular," kicking her heel up in the air, silly, cheerful, and letting them have their jabs, she'd get them back.
"Staying in the little town with your highschool sweetheart."
"Got me there boys, just a waitress from Alabama."
Lily sneaks away discreetly, only stupid moment was getting wedged between the door with Christian who was passing through. She had given him a wide smile apology; which he sighed at. All in all it could have been worse, she quoted lord of the rings "one does not simply walk through a doorway without getting stuck", which he probably didn't listen to while leaving. Such a beginning of the movie Boromir, untapped potential to come. She turned, lost in her thoughts and ready to go for a wee.
(You know the feeling of his eyes the moment you open the door; Damian has a withering smile or probably not one at all.) A dim glow from the old lightbulb, a yellow tint gleaming against what was now a faded blue tiles.
"This is the men's bathroom," arched eyebrow, and eyes reminiscence of a tin foil hat darting towards the sign on the door.
"Look at that, so it is," a bunny in headlights, she's tapping the wood of the door, just standing there; the air felt profoundly unbalanced in the room. -"My bad," she says in a caught breath, her tongue a pile up on the highway.
"Not one many would make," he comments while washing his hands.
"One of my many talents," it's an awkward smile, she's positive she should leave but her feet are glued to the floor.
"Are you waiting for me to leave?"
"Nope, it's just — you've got very pretty — captivating sort of eyes and I am not sure what to make of you."
"I see," Voice flat and toneless but you think he's relieved.
"Shouldn't be surprised these have been unexplained 24hrs," there's a relief from her, a beam of a smile.
"The world is a strange place," he moves and the clock stops; as if the cosmos was moved by him, which wasn't true.
"Giddy terror," one which she had decided never to part with; even if it made her seem a bit silly. -"They say it disappears when you've had your first everything — but if I was about to jump out of an airplane for the fifth time I'd still feel it; why shouldn't it apply to everything?" Once she had been scared of nearly everything, sure she was now the stupid girl in horror movies who died first; at peace with that thought because you'd die blissfully happy. -"Well see you around," Lily gives him a little finger gun gesture; now that was the worst all evening.
The digital clock flashes 12:00 the entire night; twigs snapping right outside the window, phantom noises growing louder, shifting kaleidoscopic walls – shit must have been something in the drinks. (Or that last tequila shot which Karen refused so you doubled down.) Reality here was something different, challenging what was figment. A mystery which she didn't mind sticking around for, she wasn't in a rush neither was her future. Karen had compared the news to brushing your teeth and then drinking a glass of orange juice.
