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magicaldeliverygirlBoring.
It was the only word that came to mind as her motorcycle roared down the mostly-empty city streets at – hmm, it felt like 85? It might have been closer to 90, but she didn’t care enough to spare a glance at her speedometer. It wasn’t like it would make a difference, or do anything to cut through the apathy that kept clouding around her. She had hoped that a bit of speed, combined with the cool air that always followed a good rain and the lower visibility of night driving, would be enough to give her that rush she was looking for. Really, she chastised herself, she should have known better. That hadn’t been enough in a while, and once she thought about that, it was almost a shock how hard it was to pin down when it all had started. How long had it been since sneaking out was enough by itself? How long since all it took was a joy ride, or popping a wheelie? When along the line did she earn her reputation as a dangerous loner at school, that weird girl in the leather jacket who always looked disinterested in the world, that person who everyone’d be better off avoiding?
When… when did she…
She blinked. No, that was no good – she did this to get out of her head, and that was exactly what she was going to do. She found a few good cars to tailgate and tested herself, seeing how close she would dare to get on the still slick roads. It got her cursed out and plenty of dirty looks, but nothing else. She hopped curbs, rode the median, wove in and out of what traffic she could find – her only reward was feeling the frustration continue to build inside of her, threatening to spill over. She sighed, the sound drowned out by the rushing wind. There wasn’t any point pushing it any further tonight. There was sleep to be had. Her exercise in escapism had been just as futile as the dreary days that prompted it. She pushed her speed a little further, absentmindedly noticing the light at the intersection was turning. It didn’t matter. She’d be able to beat it. No, what mattered was deciding whether she’d take a shower or not before she turned in. The hot water did help wash away the stress, at least sometimes.
The blaring horns and fact that she had cleared the intersection hadn’t even registered, but the unmistakable sounds of shattering glass and wrenching metal managed to snap her to attention. The world slowed to a crawl as realization hit, as she whipped her bike around to survey the scene – a car had swerved to avoid…
… to avoid…
“Gwen?”
The warm hand on her shoulder and the voice of her manager roused her, and she woke with a start. How long had she been out? Was her manager pissed? Why, of all her memories, would her dreams go to that one? A quick glance around the room revealed the answers to the first two at least. 12:37 – so, she’d probably nodded off for about twenty or so minutes. Her manager’s face was wrinkled in what she was fairly certain was concern – anger usually made his veins pop out – so that was a no to the second question (though if she kept agreeing to go into that damn Dreamscape on work days, the concern wouldn’t last a ton longer). The third question… that one was a lot harder to answer.
“Sorry, sir!” She managed a sheepish smile before allowing herself a stretch, the yawn that accompanied it being unbidden. “It’s been a rough few nights of sleep. I’ll pick up some Z-Quill in the morning though, that usually does the trick.” Her manager’s brow remained furrowed as she stayed under his intense gaze for a moment or two longer. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he weighed his trust of her and the goodwill she’d built up over the years against his instincts as a father. Finally he relented, gesturing to a stack of deliveries sitting on the counter. Either one person was having a bit of a party, or five or six students got a case at the munchies at the same time. Or, she mused to herself, maybe both. She hoped for both. The potheads usually tipped pretty damn well.
Taking the pizzas to her moped and loading them into her carrier was all muscle memory at this point, and in a desperate attempt to stay awake, she switched on the Bluetooth on her helmet before getting astride her bike. By the time she realized she hadn’t switched off of her radio app, it was already too late to do anything about it, and her only company was a voice she wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
Alex.
On the one hand, anger was a great tool to use to stay awake. The sleepiness and fatigue she had been fighting were forgotten, as if they’d never been there. On the other hand, hearing the ‘Greatest Hits’ show of the smug bastard was certainly taking years off of her life. Gwen’s hands clenched the handlebars of her moped, and she swore she could actually feel her blood pressure increasing with every pre-recorded word that passed through his damn pretty boy lips. By the time she had reached her first stop light, she wasn’t even paying attention to the words anymore – all she could focus on was the Dreamscape, and how his damn mouth and ego had almost gotten all of them killed. If it weren’t for the rest of them going all out, who knew what would have happened? That stupid ego of his, with that smug smile and that ‘always right’ attitude, the insufferable little bastard with the air of superiority floating around him-
The sound of screeching tires snapped her back to reality. Someone hadn’t seen the light turning and slammed the breaks. And as her heart skipped a beat from that, the all too vivid sights of twisted metal flashed before her eyes, the sounds of sirens and the smells of burning oil and worn rubber. The knowledge that it was her fault, the paralyzing fear of indecision, the tears streaming down her face as she turned around and sped away rather than face the consequences head on, the hours she had spent sobbing in the shower without even bothering to change out of her clothes, the incredible guilt and shame she felt at her relief the next morning when she saw there weren’t any fatalities, the utter disgust at herself, the-
The sound of the horn behind her snapped her back to reality, and Gwen found herself in a cold sweat as she kept pushing onwards towards her first stop. A voice in her head told her that it was a long time ago, that she had changed, and that he still needed to hear it. It still couldn’t cover up the part of her that wondered if she was yelling at Alex, or at that dumb seventeen-year-old without a sense of purpose in a leather jacket, the same one she was wearing now. She sighed, the sound drowned out by the rushing wind. There was no point in pushing her brain any further tonight.
There were pizzas to deliver.
It was the only word that came to mind as her motorcycle roared down the mostly-empty city streets at – hmm, it felt like 85? It might have been closer to 90, but she didn’t care enough to spare a glance at her speedometer. It wasn’t like it would make a difference, or do anything to cut through the apathy that kept clouding around her. She had hoped that a bit of speed, combined with the cool air that always followed a good rain and the lower visibility of night driving, would be enough to give her that rush she was looking for. Really, she chastised herself, she should have known better. That hadn’t been enough in a while, and once she thought about that, it was almost a shock how hard it was to pin down when it all had started. How long had it been since sneaking out was enough by itself? How long since all it took was a joy ride, or popping a wheelie? When along the line did she earn her reputation as a dangerous loner at school, that weird girl in the leather jacket who always looked disinterested in the world, that person who everyone’d be better off avoiding?
When… when did she…
She blinked. No, that was no good – she did this to get out of her head, and that was exactly what she was going to do. She found a few good cars to tailgate and tested herself, seeing how close she would dare to get on the still slick roads. It got her cursed out and plenty of dirty looks, but nothing else. She hopped curbs, rode the median, wove in and out of what traffic she could find – her only reward was feeling the frustration continue to build inside of her, threatening to spill over. She sighed, the sound drowned out by the rushing wind. There wasn’t any point pushing it any further tonight. There was sleep to be had. Her exercise in escapism had been just as futile as the dreary days that prompted it. She pushed her speed a little further, absentmindedly noticing the light at the intersection was turning. It didn’t matter. She’d be able to beat it. No, what mattered was deciding whether she’d take a shower or not before she turned in. The hot water did help wash away the stress, at least sometimes.
The blaring horns and fact that she had cleared the intersection hadn’t even registered, but the unmistakable sounds of shattering glass and wrenching metal managed to snap her to attention. The world slowed to a crawl as realization hit, as she whipped her bike around to survey the scene – a car had swerved to avoid…
… to avoid…
“Gwen?”
The warm hand on her shoulder and the voice of her manager roused her, and she woke with a start. How long had she been out? Was her manager pissed? Why, of all her memories, would her dreams go to that one? A quick glance around the room revealed the answers to the first two at least. 12:37 – so, she’d probably nodded off for about twenty or so minutes. Her manager’s face was wrinkled in what she was fairly certain was concern – anger usually made his veins pop out – so that was a no to the second question (though if she kept agreeing to go into that damn Dreamscape on work days, the concern wouldn’t last a ton longer). The third question… that one was a lot harder to answer.
“Sorry, sir!” She managed a sheepish smile before allowing herself a stretch, the yawn that accompanied it being unbidden. “It’s been a rough few nights of sleep. I’ll pick up some Z-Quill in the morning though, that usually does the trick.” Her manager’s brow remained furrowed as she stayed under his intense gaze for a moment or two longer. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he weighed his trust of her and the goodwill she’d built up over the years against his instincts as a father. Finally he relented, gesturing to a stack of deliveries sitting on the counter. Either one person was having a bit of a party, or five or six students got a case at the munchies at the same time. Or, she mused to herself, maybe both. She hoped for both. The potheads usually tipped pretty damn well.
Taking the pizzas to her moped and loading them into her carrier was all muscle memory at this point, and in a desperate attempt to stay awake, she switched on the Bluetooth on her helmet before getting astride her bike. By the time she realized she hadn’t switched off of her radio app, it was already too late to do anything about it, and her only company was a voice she wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
Alex.
On the one hand, anger was a great tool to use to stay awake. The sleepiness and fatigue she had been fighting were forgotten, as if they’d never been there. On the other hand, hearing the ‘Greatest Hits’ show of the smug bastard was certainly taking years off of her life. Gwen’s hands clenched the handlebars of her moped, and she swore she could actually feel her blood pressure increasing with every pre-recorded word that passed through his damn pretty boy lips. By the time she had reached her first stop light, she wasn’t even paying attention to the words anymore – all she could focus on was the Dreamscape, and how his damn mouth and ego had almost gotten all of them killed. If it weren’t for the rest of them going all out, who knew what would have happened? That stupid ego of his, with that smug smile and that ‘always right’ attitude, the insufferable little bastard with the air of superiority floating around him-
The sound of screeching tires snapped her back to reality. Someone hadn’t seen the light turning and slammed the breaks. And as her heart skipped a beat from that, the all too vivid sights of twisted metal flashed before her eyes, the sounds of sirens and the smells of burning oil and worn rubber. The knowledge that it was her fault, the paralyzing fear of indecision, the tears streaming down her face as she turned around and sped away rather than face the consequences head on, the hours she had spent sobbing in the shower without even bothering to change out of her clothes, the incredible guilt and shame she felt at her relief the next morning when she saw there weren’t any fatalities, the utter disgust at herself, the-
The sound of the horn behind her snapped her back to reality, and Gwen found herself in a cold sweat as she kept pushing onwards towards her first stop. A voice in her head told her that it was a long time ago, that she had changed, and that he still needed to hear it. It still couldn’t cover up the part of her that wondered if she was yelling at Alex, or at that dumb seventeen-year-old without a sense of purpose in a leather jacket, the same one she was wearing now. She sighed, the sound drowned out by the rushing wind. There was no point in pushing her brain any further tonight.
There were pizzas to deliver.
