Tom looks out the window at the houses moving past. He jolts as the car traveled over a bumpy part of the road.

“This is definitely not better than a carriage,” he grumbles at the window.

“Dude,” Oskar’s voice reaches him from the other side, and Tom glances at him as his boyfriend speaks. “We don’t have carriages on Earth.”

“I know that,” Tom says, placing his hands on either side of his seat and turning. The eye on his forehead flickers to look at the mess of a back seat while the other two are still focused on Oskar. “Most people in Hell don’t even have carriages, but it’s much more efficient.”

Oskar grins at him, flicking his hair back briefly. The car swerves a little more to one side before Oskar looks back and rights it. “See, that’s because you’re a prince.”

“Yeah, guess it is.” Tom pauses before he voices some other thoughts. “I wanted to ask…”

“Yeah?”

“Why is all that stuff in the back of the car?” Tom eyes the various objects piled back there, from key guitars to empty soda containers, to socks and other clothes.

Oskar falls silent.

“Oskar?” Tom asks, getting concerned.

“It’s my car, and that’s all my stuff,” Oskar says slowly, finally.

Tom’s eyes widen. “What? That’s all your stuff? Do you not have anywhere else?”

Oskar shakes his head, and Tom’s eyes narrow. “I’m fine,” Oskar tells him, but Tom isn’t buying it.

“Yeah right!” he exclaims, his fingers tightening on the seat. “Dude, you could’ve mentioned it earlier! I need to help you!” Tom feels, despite all the effort he’s put into not being so angry, full of a boiling, bitter feeling.

Oskar shakes his head, and Tom tries, for his sake, to calm down.

“At least let me take you to Hell with me, at least for a little,” Tom forces out along with a deep breath.

“Alright,” Oskar concedes, continuing his driving, even making the car speed up, “After we eat some Earth food together, though.”