Stan turned on the radio on the stool next to him and cast his line in the water. He started flipping through the radio stations, or at least the few they were able to get up here in the middle of nowhere, and finally settled on one when he heard that one song...
"And coming up next...Nights Like These...by Lucero!"
Stan sighed and turned it up, turning back to his fishing pole. He was never in a million years gonna admit that sappy shit like music made him cry. he's always been one of those guys to just stuff his feelings deep down in fear of being perceived as something...less. Especially to Ford.
Ford was walking up the stairs to deck when he heard the radio. Quietly he peeked around the corner and saw Stan looking extremely depressed. He stayed quiet and watched, because if his brother knew he'd seen him looking so sad, he might've clammed up and refused to say whats wrong.
It's nights like these that make me sleep all day
It's nights like these that make you feel so far away
It's nights like these when nothing is for sure
It's nights like these I don't want you anymore
Stan took a deep breath and started to sing.
"And I've only got this one wish
That I was good enough to make you forget
The only boy who ever broke your heart
'cause nights like these tear me apart"
He couldn't forget Carla...no matter how hard he tried... and he couldn't talk to Ford about he was feeling because...well...Stan felt like he had no right to complain about his depression when his brother was in literal deadly situations countless times over the past 30 years. It would be selfish to act vulnerable in front of Ford.
It's nights like these the sad songs don't help
It's nights like these your heart's with someone else
It's nights like these I feel like giving up
It's nights like these I don't seem to count for much
"The beer tastes like blood and my mouth is numb!" he wailed as his voice intermingled with the radio,
I can't make the words I need to say
"She had a weakness for writers!
And I was never that good at the words anyways..."
Ford stood behind the engine room open-mouthed. He sighed and said to himself, "Someday, Stanley...you'll talk to me when you feel depressed. Someday you'll open up again. We have all the time in the world to work on that now.."