this idea came to me in a flash yesterday and i had to start writing it immediately. there's not much to this chapter, but i just wanted to get the ball rolling! i've already got some of the next chapter written, so it shouldn't be too long coming. i hope y'all like road trips as much as i do. (titled after the song "we're on our way" by radical face)

When Blinky stumbled out of the taxi and into the bar, he was already three sheets to the wind, and he had every intention of getting even drunker. It took him two tries to slide into a seat at the counter, and he accidentally bumped into the person on the next stool in the process.

This earned a displeased grunt from the other patron. Once Blinky was settled in, he took a good look at his neighbor, preparing to apologize for the disruption. "Oh, my," he said instead, eyes wide. "You are very big."

"Big" was an understatement, with "hulking brute" closer to doing him justice. He was broad-shouldered and easily almost seven feet tall, his tattooed arms strong enough to crush a skull in the crook of one elbow—and that having happened did not seem outside the realm of possibility. He'd clearly been in a number of fights over the years, his knuckles a mass of scars and his nose crooked in a way that implied it had been broken on multiple occasions and healed badly each time. Simply put, he was the most terrifying person Blinky had ever seen.

He also had absolutely gorgeous green eyes.

Blinky leaned against the bar, propping his cheek in his hand. "So… come here often?"

The big man gave him a bemused smile. "First time." He had a thick accent Blinky couldn't quite place. Russian, maybe, or something more Nordic.

"S'that so." Was the room tilting? No, just his head. "In that case, lemme buy you a drink!"

Sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, and Blinky shoved his head under his pillow to escape it. Except, hang on, since when did his pillow smell like stale cigarettes? He jolted upright, immediately regretting it when his stomach lurched. Pressing his hands to his head, he tried to will the nausea away. This was, without a doubt, the worst hangover he'd ever had.

Once the wave of sickness passed, he took in his surroundings. There wasn't much to take in—it was a shitty motel room, musty and falling apart. On the nightstand was a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water, and Blinky reached for them gratefully as he tried to remember how he got here. Most of it was blurry, and he couldn't summon up any specifics, but he got the distinct impression he'd spent quite a lot of time with that big guy. Maybe… no, he was still wearing most of his clothes, except the suit jacket that was tossed over the chair in the corner, his black tie hanging half out of its pocket. Ah, well. He would've wanted to be able to remember something like that, anyway.

Another, much less pleasant thought occurred to him. He patted his pants, looking for his phone, before realizing these were his fancy slacks that didn't have pockets. Sliding out of bed, he crossed the room and fished around in his jacket until he found it. He checked the lock screen and groaned. Twenty missed calls from his mother, and seven voicemails. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his headache worsening despite the painkillers.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and the big man stepped out. Blinky nearly dropped his phone in surprise. "Oh! Hello, there!"

"Morning," was the rumbled response.

Blinky swallowed, drying his suddenly sweaty palms on his slacks. "I'm afraid I don't recall if I got your name."

"Argh."

Blinky blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Short for Arghaumont."

"Ah," Blinky said. It wasn't like he was in any position to think someone's name was weird. "I'm Blinky."

Argh nodded. "Yes. Blinkous Galadrigal." He stumbled a little over Blinky's last name.

"So we were introduced." Blinky sighed, rubbing his forehead. "My apologies. Last night is a bit… unclear. Where are we?"

"Motel near bar," Argh replied. "You didn't want to go home."

If Blinky was being perfectly honest with himself, which he wasn't often these days, he still didn't want to go home. But where else could he go? "I don't mean to sound rude, but… why are you still here?"

Argh shrugged, a motion like the shifting of mountains. "You say, 'Let's go on road trip.' I say, 'Sure, why not?' Too drunk to drive, so I bring you here. We sleep, go in morning."

It took Blinky a moment to process this: first, that he'd drunkenly proposed a road trip to a stranger in a bar; next, that the stranger had said yes, and even continued to be committed to the idea now that they were both sober. "Did I… say where we were going?"

Argh shook his head wordlessly.

"Is there somewhere you want to go?"

Another silent head shake.

Blinky looked at his phone. Seven voicemails from dear old mum… and all of them furious, no doubt. He tugged at the crisp white collar of the nicest shirt he owned (though it was significantly less crisp now), then let his arm drop limply to his side. Slowly, his hand curled into a fist, and his grip on his phone tightened. "I'll be right back," he said.

Within five minutes, Blinky had returned from the motel's front office, chewing a piece of gum and holding a map of the United States. He closed the room's door behind him with more force than strictly necessary. After unfolding the map, he spat the gum into his hand and pulled it in two, using the parts to stick the upper corners of the map to the wall. Stepping back, he considered his handiwork. "Now, if only we had a dart or something…"

There was a metallic snick as Argh produced a butterfly knife from nowhere and expertly unfolded it in one hand.

A part deep in Blinky's chest had already snapped, and he found himself taking this in stride. "Perfect! Now, cover your eyes and throw it at the map!"

Argh frowned in concern, then gave a slight shrug and did as he was asked. Blinky winced when the knife went all the way into the wall, but couldn't bring himself to truly care. Something new and restless was buzzing under his skin. He examined the name underlined by the vibrating hilt. "Arcadia Oaks," he announced. "Argh, my new friend, say goodbye to New Jersey—we're going to California!"