#southbound.start

It had been a long day at Chuy’s, Nate trying his hand at fixing a car that seemed to be impossible. It didn’t help that it was so hot outside. He was surprised the tires hadn’t melted yet. Nonetheless, Nate was too stubborn to give up - a trait he had gotten from his asshole of a father. He wanted to say he got it from his mother but he hadn’t known her to figure that one out. Nate persevered despite the challenges that the weather as well as the stubborn car before him brought. He stopped once he heard someone walking in his direction, turning around to see who it was. A flirtatious grin broke out on his face once he saw who it was standing before him. “Well, hello there. What can I do for you today?”

“hey, uh--” joey began, her soft, husky voice almost drowning in the din of the lunch rush even as it was beginning to wane. soon enough, everyone who worked nearby would be clearing out of the turquoise star and it would be dead as quickly as it had been packed.  “you can have a seat anywhere you like.” really, only the bar was open, tables all tightly packed, but that was fine enough. she could usually make better tips off the solo folks on the bar stools. “it’s real busy right now, but wait a few and it’ll quiet down. is there anything you’d like to start out with to drink?”

mallory had never been one to go out. she hadn’t been out for a while, the girl always scared of relapsing back into her old habits. she had been careful not to drink too much so the girl felt as though she deserved this. just one little treat ( or two ) before going back to work in the morning. she finished putting on her lipstick, it being a dark red opposed to the usual chapstick she put on when rushing to go to work. she was also wearing a dress, a little black dress she had gotten a while back but never wore. until now. twirling around in the mirror, she then turned back around to look at her friend. they were both supposed to be heading out together, hence why mallory was at their place getting ready. “how do i look? give me your honest opinion.”

it’s too early in the evening for alison to be so apathetic with his customers. perhaps it’s the twang of loretta lynn’s tinny voice from the jukebox in the corner or the worn-in seats up against the bar and the tables already filled up with its usual suspects, but the dour attitude of alison has only increased tenfold over the past few hours since he woke up for work. dropping the dishrag loudly against the bar, he looks to the customer that’s just sat down, “what’ll it be?” he regards them suspiciously and speaks before they can answer, “and i’m not getting out the shaker, so pick something on tap.”

TRUMAN REGARDED HIS phone with some skepticism. It was hooked up to the local radio, which he was beginning to suspect played different songs for different people. His music taste was pretty obscure, and he’d never once heard Woodkid on the radio before coming to town. But he didn’t mind. At least he could stand it. The DJ was another story. “hey,” Truman elbowed the person sitting next to him. Tilting a head towards his phone. “Do you think the guy on the radio is a robot or a ghost? My money’s on ghost. I’m just saying, whenever he says ‘next up is your favourite song’ it always has the EXACT same inflection, sounds like an echo.”

"oh, we’re just about to close—” margie’s voice calls over her shoulder as she wipes the menus down, alone in the boxcar dinner, when she hears the familiar ding of the bell over the door. it’s so close to closing, the final stretch before she can go home; the sound of the bell is a cursed siren song, the sound every waitress dreads. she resigns herself to her fate, entertaining a customer instead of locking up on time. turning to see the intruder, margie eases her features into a smile instead of looking annoyed. “what can i get ya?” when she sees the state of them, her tune changes. “oh, sit down. let me get you a cup of coffee.”

rose was slightly tired as she stood up straight, awaiting the next person who’d check in. it had been a slow day at the motel and rose found herself growing bored reading the same old magazines left in the receptionist area all day. she could be working on her novel ( if you count staring at a blank screen as writing ) or just sleeping. sleep had evaded the young woman on and off for several weeks and rose could swear she was losing her mind. she then snapped out of her thoughts once she heard someone coming through the door, her eyes landing on them. “welcome to the cooper cactus motel,” rose remarked in as cheery of a voice as she could muster, “would you like a room for tonight?”