“I’m gonna head out.”
Emmett did his best to speak clearly and keep his expression neutral. His brain was buzzing. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to be alone.
“Wait, Emmett-” Andre’s words fell flat. It seemed he didn’t know what to say.
“Do you need a ride?” Dawson’s voice broke through the tension within Emmett. “I’m good.” Emmett’s voice was rough and quiet. Andre’s expression was akin to that of a worried mother before he spoke. “You walked here right? It’s dark and you don’t exactly seem to be in the best mindset. You should really go with Dawson.”
Would they keep nagging at him if he didn’t accept?
He took his glasses off with one hand and rubbed his temple with the other.He inhaled the fresh cool air sharply and held it for a moment before letting it go.
“Fine.”
The taste of disdain was thick on his tongue.
There was a tense moment, Emmett was sure his expression was bordering straight axe-murderer level anger.
“Talk to you later?” Andre’s voice indicated it was a question, but Emmett really didn't want to answer. “See you.”
The walk to Dawson’s car was quiet. Well, besides the blaring music. The party was still crowded. Still bustling.
After they left the house it didn’t take too long to locate Dawson’s vehicle. A large red truck. It looked a bit dinged up. The paint was chipping and there were a few bumps and knicks here and there.
“She’s a lil beat up but she gets the job done.”
Dawson patted the top of the truck fondly. “She’ll be our ride to Austin- Ah- If you're still down.” He gave a shy slight smile. “ ‘M still down.” Emmett’s expression was still notably grimm and Dawson seemed to notice immediately. They entered the car quietly.
“Where d’ya live?”
“Not far. Keep going straight and I’ll tell you when to turn.”Dawson shifted his car into drive and drove.
It was quiet, besides the hum of the engine.
“You good?”
Dawson’s eyes were intent on the road as he spoke, with one large hand gripping the wheel. He wore a few black rings on his hands and a beaded tan bracelet on his right wrist. Emmett always liked rings, but never knew how to pull them off. Maybe he’d ask Dawson how in the future. Dawson had pretty eyes too. Pretty long lashes and pretty blue-grey eyes. Emmett’s brain wasn’t making any sense right now. He wished he could turn it off.
“Yeah.”
Emmett’s mouth was still so dry. It was hard to swallow. It was hard to think. Everything was still fuzzy. He’d felt like he was made of static.
“Really? ‘Cause you look like you stepped in horse shit.” That’s when Emmett realized his brows were furrowed and his lips downturned as he absently chewed his cheek.
“Shit-” Emmett forcibly relaxed his tense expression. “Sorry about that.”
Dawson snorted. “Sorry ‘bout what?” Emmett wasn’t sure anymore. “Dunno.” God, he was tired. “You have nothing to apologize for, Emmett.” Dawson’s eyes met Emmett’s for just a moment. He placed his hand gently on his shoulder and the static peaked into straight up electricity. It felt uncomfortable. That’s what Emmett had to call it.
Because if he’d called it what it was, he’d be even more ‘uncomfortable’.
“It’s okay to let yourself… feel upset ya know.” When he remained quiet Dawson went on. “And I know it's not my place but, I dunno. Thought you should know that.”
Emmett spent the rest of the drive looking out the window. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window and he watched. Everything was fast and slow. Everything was moving.
It didn’t take long for them to make it to Emmett’s house.
“Goodnight road trip buddy.” Dawson smiled at Emmett as he exited the truck. “Night.” He felt stiff. The static feeling throughout his body was starting to trickle back into his brain.
And with that- Emmett entered his home.
It’s okay to let yourself be upset, you know.
Mufasa rushed Emmett as he entered the apartment. It was his routine. Rush father, smell everywhere he’s been, and of course, lick him to death. It wasn’t a bad thing to come home to, though.
It was nice to come home to someone. Especially someone so happy to see him. Mufasa never got bored of him. Of course, Emmet was the hand that feeds him but… It was still nice to have someone who loves him so wholeheartedly.
“How’s my good boy?” Mufasa’s ears perked up. He leaned into Emmett, and Emmett pet him. Mufasa had a chronic case of wiggle-butts and it was deadly.
He took Mufasa outside and let him potty a few times before coming back inside and getting dressed for bed.
It had been a long night.
He rested his glasses on the nightstand and drifted to sleep.
★
His throat was killing him. His head was groggy and his throat was so scratchy. He just knew today would be kind of shitty.
“God-” His left hand patted aimlessly on the nightstand for his glasses. “Fuck.” He eventually found them and put them on before looking at his phone.
It took a moment before his eyes adjusted to the light.
He squinted. It was blurry but the time was mostly legible.
It was 12:36pm.
Just a day ago he would have instinctively sent Maddie a ‘Good morning, beautiful.’ text. They would have probably got coffee at their favorite cafe and spent most the day together.
It’d only been a day, yet, he missed it.
He missed her.
Ugh. He’d prefer not to think about that right now. Or ever. So, in hopes of distracting himself from all the unpleasantness he looked through his notifications.
But, there were a few notifications. A couple of spam emails, notifications from shopping apps letting him know about the newest sales, and a few texts.
Nothing from Maddie.
His brain was definitely not doing him any favors through all of this.
The first few texts were from Andre.
“Hey man, sorry about last night. If you need anything let me know.” Emmett felt a little bad about leaving Andre like he had. It didn’t help that Andre was the nicest guy ever and never meant to trigger anything within him. “You’re good. Sorry I was a little off.” He hoped that Andre wouldn't push the conversation much further though. He really just wanted time to cool his head before having to tell everyone and their mother about the breakup.
The next few texts were from Joseph.
“You good?” “Lmk if you wanna talk.” “Want me to talk to her?” “I’m sorry.” He’d obviously been worried about their last interaction. They had ended on rockier terms than he and Andre and Emmett had no clue had to respond.
So he didn't.
The last message was from someone by the name of ‘RoadTripBuddy’
“Hey! It’s Dawson! Thought I’d give you one last chance to chicken out. Won’t judge ya if you dont wanna do it anymore, besides you weren't exactly super sober. But, if you are down still lemme know.”
So offering to go on a long ass haul with a stranger wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He had done that last night.
Had Emmett lost his mind yesterday? Maybe just a little.
But, on the other hand, maybe this was good for him? And what did he have to lose? His life? He wasn’t so sure that that would be such a loss.
Fuck it.
“Still down. Text me the dates at your soonest availability.”
Did that sound rude?
“Please.”
He visually cringed at himself. God, he was awkward.
This trip was going to be awkward.
Awkward as hell.
And all this impulsiveness was going to require him to take time off. And soon. Though, he wasn’t too concerned. It wasn’t like business had been all that booming at the shop. And his boss, Rudie, had always been flexible. He was like 99.9% sure she’d accommodate him.
It didn’t take too long before he got a text back from RoadTripBuddy.
“Funeral’s next sunday so we leave thursday to make sure we have plenty of time to make it. Sound good?”
He sent a thumbs up emoji in response and called it a day. This was happening now? Being impulsive was new to Emmett. Even each of his tattoos and piercings were more carefully thought through. He always tried to stay calm, collected and never lose his head. He had to stay stable.
“Nice. See you next week Road Trip buddy(〜^∇ ^ )〜”
Maybe Emmett wasn’t the only cringy one.
An inkling of a feeling began within Emmett. Excitement? Anxiety? He wasn’t sure what to label it, so he did what he did most things- he ignored it.
★
Emmett didn’t quite know how to spend his first day alone in three years. He had all these unpleasant feelings that seemed to linger no matter what he did. And it didn't help that everything seemed to remind him of her.
So, after making sure Mufasa was taken care of, he grabbed a canvas and set up his easel.
Motivation to create anything had been low, to say the least. His art felt so… artificial? Soulless? He had half a mind to blame his meds- which he should probably take right about now.
He really didn't want to but he knew it was best to be responsible so with that he grabbed a luke-warm water bottle from his pantry and chugged down his Lexapro before sitting down on the stool beside his painting set up.
He wanted to paint something of substance. Something that conveyed everything he was feeling. Something beautiful and haunting. Something that felt like him. Like he’d created it.
Something raw with emotion- that displayed the hectic desperate feelings within him in such a way that would shake the viewers very core. He wasn't even sure if that was possible but that was what he wanted.
He dipped his paintbrush in the deep red paint and exhaled. He shouldn't be putting such high expectations onto this painting. He just always wanted to create that one piece of art. That one that would go big and get him out of his shitty apartment. But again, that was expecting way too much.
With the brush he made an arch on the canvas- quick and messy. Then, quicker than the last he swiped his brush along the canvas, creating a long straight line.
He didn’t know what he was doing. He just continued with different darker and deeper shades of red until the canvas was a bloody mess.
He stared at it for a moment- he could see its individual stroke on top of the last. Was this art? Was it anything?
No matter the answer it didn't feel right.
Hopefully this impulsive adventure he’d signed himself up for would give him some much needed inspiration. He’d have to pack some art supplies just in case.
Mufasa made his way and rested his big head on Emmett’s thigh and looked at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes anyone had ever seen. He let out a big huff that screamed “attention now, father.” And Emmett patted the spoiled boy.
“You know we’re going on a trip?” Mufasa’s nub of a tail wiggled. “Texas. It's gonna be a long trip but if any pup can do it, it's you.” Mufasa let out a small quiet half-bark and continued to wiggle. He could hardly keep his paws on the floor- he was obviously ready to play.
“Sorry bud.” He pet the divet in Mufasa’s skull. “Not right now. Dad’s not feeling all that great.”
Emmett probably spoke more to his dog than anyone else. It was just so much easier talking to Mufasa than a person. And it helped that he was undoubtedly cute as hell.
Mufasa whimpered a bit but when Emmett made his way to the kitchen and pulled a pig ear from the pantry and immediately he went from a sad pathetic old man to a very happy excited young pup.
He tossed the pig ear and Mufasa caught it with grace before taking it to his bed and gnawing on it.
He should probably get changed and shower. He was still wearing the same shit from the party last night.
He grabbed some fresh clothes from his room. He didn't feel like putting any effort into his outfit so he just grabbed the first pair of boxers he saw, a red and black sweater and some black jeans.
After removing his glasses he went and began his shower. It was hot, steam already began to fog the bathroom mirror.
He felt all the tension in his body temporarily evaporate as he entered into the shower. The water was hot as hell but he’d adjusted quickly. Water trickled from his black butterfly locks and ran down his face. Droplets hitching on his dark lashes before he rubbed them away.
He could stay here forever.
After washing his hair and body he pulled himself out and dried himself off.
He made his way to the sink and brushed his teeth. While doing so he eye’d his reflection. His skin was a warm caramel in tone - he did take mostly after his mother in that way. Same with his eyes. His eyes were a deep umber, just like his mom.
He didn’t actually take all that many attributes from his father except for the occasional mole and beauty mark sprinkled throughout his body.
He wasn’t extremely fit. That much was clear at the moment. His stomach protruded a bit. Maybe the many many many coffees and fast food was finally catching up to him. Maybe it was time he went to the gym and got those gains. But would he? Probably not.
He studied his face for a moment. Some days it really didn't feel like it was his. He had several face piercings. A lip ring, dimple piercings, a septum, gages, a conch in his right ear, and a bar in his left. He’d planned on getting more- he just wasn’t sure what. He had plenty of tattoos too. Most notably were the ones on the back of his neck. Multiple line art tats of eyes just… staring. Watching. Now he could always say he had eyes on the back of his head.
He had a few on his wrists and arms but that was about it.
He rinsed his mouth after he brushed his teeth and put his glasses back on.
He put on his fresh clothes and sorta just, waited a moment. What was a newly heartbroken man to do? Definitely not think about his gorgeous wonderful ex who left him in the shittiest way possible. Definitely not that.
Oh- shit.
He pulled his phone out and messaged Rudie- his manager. It was probably pretty important that he inform her sooner than later about his upcoming trip.
Hey. Sorry for the late notice but something came up next week. You good if I take it off?
And send.
No need to get into details. If she had questions she’d ask them and he’d answer them later.
The day went by painfully slow. He’d mostly spent the day playing random first person shooters and cuddling Mufasa.
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