The hum of the engine lowers and slows gradually as it consumes the very last of the remaining gas fumes. Twenty fucking miles and no gas station, nothing, nada, zip.
That's about when I hit rock bottom, caught between a plateau and a wasteland on a path that stretched infinitely.
What a fucking metaphor for my life; I reached my peak, became stagnant, and wasted away with no end in sight.
I pull off to the right side of the highway and the '61 Ford Falcon Deluxe roll to a stop. I put the car in park and remove the keys from the ignition.
The familiar feeling of my nerves firing took over, the one where it felt like I have to rock or shake continuously to feel normal. I can't stop myself from grabbing the steering wheel I inherited from my father and shaking it furiously, gritting my teeth until it was painful.
I can't explain why but sometimes it feels like there is an uncontrollable need inside me to exert a destructive force, and though I've tried to contain it as best as I can, I know I'm satisfying a greater need, one I don't understand, and have no say over.
I wasn't able to pick up anymore scripts from the doc and now I'm fucking freaking out per usual.
That's probably what led me to drive to 'No Service' bumfucknowhere, NM and continue to skip every gas station like I was invincible, that I could drive forever and leave the past behind.
How wrong I was.
Now I'm stuck and if I don't find a way out, I may not ever.
And it's hot as hell here in this godforsaken strip.
Now that the A/C was no longer running it was best if I stayed cool for as long as I could so I slipped off my black leather jacket before stepping out of the car.
God I could go for a cigarette but it's way too fucking hot out here.
Despite my shades, the sun's rays are uncomfortable so I shield my view and peer over the field of cracked ground and shrubs, wondering if I would die out here.
How would it happen if I do? Dehydration? Wolves? Loneliness?
A Jeep?
The hell are they doing all the way out here?
Then I spot a silhouette who appeared to be digging a hole to China, and fast.
What the- I hesitate, stopping in my tracks. It's a relief to see someone else out here especially since I was just considering the different ways I might meet my end.
Still. I'm not ready to see a dead body and why else would someone be digging a hole out in the middle of nowhere by themselves? I look around for anyone else, but there has been no sign of humanity for the past twenty miles.
Seriously, there must be several people going missing here, is it even legal to have no refuge and no service out here?
Fine. I decide it's better not to wait and see how I die if this gravedigger was my only chance out.
Besides, this person is likely a fan. I'm Kylo fucking Ren, of course they are a fan. Wouldn't be the first time someone helped me out of a sticky situation just cause they wanted to be me or be with me.
When did I get so fucking arrogant?
I proceed cautiously, zeroing in on the details of the Jeep and trying to get a good look at the gravedigger. He beats away at the dirt with a pickaxe, with each swing giving a guttural grunt from the effort.
The Jeep is beat up, clearly a very old model but instead of being showy like The Falcon, it was rusted and on its last legs. It looks like someone lived in it based on how much shit is crammed up against the windows and back hood.
They had parked several hundred feet away from the road but I cross that quickly, my elongated steps carrying me quickly. The gravedigger stops tearing away with the pickaxe and goes for the shovel, bending over and oh.
A woman.
With the shovel in hand she turns to face me and calls out, "What are you doing?" Her voice rang loud and clear. Confident.
The fuck…
"I'm stuck." It's true in so many ways. "What are you doing?"
"You're stuck? Well that's too bad." She sounds surprisingly genuine, as if she really did care. As if.
She didn't answer my question though, though I suppose I wouldn't either if I was burying a body. Maybe she could bury me too. "Come along then," she sings before turning around and shoving the shovel deep into the broken-up soil.
I sigh and shove my hands into my pockets. What the hell, might as well. I proceed but make sure to stop a safe ten feet away from the lady gravedigger.
"So." Shovel. Scoop. Grunt. "Why are you stuck?" She turns and faces me once again, spears the ground with the shovel and crosses her arms.
I get a good look at her and what do you know? She's a looker. She's filthy and sweaty but it for some reason suits her strong face, her freckles, her earthy eyes. The wisps of hair escaping the three buns she wears are wild around her face.
I scoff. Looker or not, this girl's getting on my nerves, asking all the questions and guarding all the answers. "You don't know who I am?"
She immediately gets defensive, her stance changing and shovel in hand again. "No. We've only just met." She eyes me suspiciously. "Who are you?"
Somehow saying Kylo Ren doesn't feel like an answer. In truth, I don't know if that's who I am anymore.
"Solo. Ben Solo."
She relaxes and covers her mouth hiding a giggle. "And I'm Bond. James Bond."
"You digging a grave, James Bond? Thought you'd have the agency doing this shit for you."
She guffaws and steps forward suddenly, offering her hand. "I'm Rey. Just Rey." She says it in an American accent and I'm not sure if that was supposed to be a Sean Connery impression but it was pretty cute. "I'm digging a soil pit. Wanna help?"
And sure, why not? I've got nothing better to do. I nod and she offers me the shovel.
What the fuck am I doing? Digging, I suppose. And that's what we do.
She offers me water and we take turns with the pickaxe and shovel to make a cubic meter hole in the ground, carving out a little bench out of the soil. At some point, she snaps a photo of the pit and I think I might be in it but I don't really care.
She plops down into the pit and takes a seat. "Perfect, the sunlight is hitting this perfectly. Mind taking notes?"
I simply take the notebook she hands me. There's a grid with different columns labeled things like structure, texture, color, stuff I don't get; I just write what she says. She's doing most of the talking.
What have I learned about her? A lot.
She's a grad student travelling around the U.S. studying Geomorphology. Originally from England from some town I do not know. Lives out of her car. Stays at motels or hostels. Loves dirt.
The thing is there is something about her that I'm content to just be around, something so real about this girl that's a breath of fresh air after spending so much time with the dickwads and fakes of Hollywood.
Now that I'm famous most girls play coy and sexy around me, so sure that it's a novelty, that she is the one that could win my heart. I still sleep with them but fuuuuck that.
I'm one of the dickwads and fakes of Hollywood.
Truth hurts. This girl however is as clean as can be, pure even if she's covered in dirt and sweat at the moment.
"…photography is great especially since I travel so much." Yes, this endless rant is just what I need to be distracted, away from my own world. "But I used to love acting and doing film projects with friends!" Uh oh. My stomach immediately churns and my heart quickens.
Relax, this girl has no clue who you are.
"You used to act?" My voice breaks a little from being thirsty (she said to try and conserve water) and she looks at me for a moment surprised.
"Sorry, forgot you could talk." Flirty smile. "Yes, I did, I loved it, but in the end I don't think it was something I could do for a living."
Relax…
"Why is that?"
She looks down for a moment, her mouth frowning on one side and her eyebrows puckering.
"The fame. I mean, seems nice but then it seems like a lot of pressure to crack under. No privacy means no freedom. And I couldn't live like that."
She sounds serious for the first time since she almost threatened me with the shovel. "But what do I know? Haven't paid attention to all that cause I started to move around so much. It's funny you said you are stuck. That's how I felt once, then I cracked one day. Hopped in the car, drove away and now look at me. May have gone overboard," she laughs.
"I think I know exactly what you mean." She smiles brightly at that and I can't help that I return it.
After she gets her notes and samples of the different 'horizons' (which she insists are not called layers), we fill in the hole, and hop in her car to ride back to town.
Turns out I was thisclose to making it and she finds that hilarious. Probably could've walked there and walked back with a small tank of gas and been on my way. She laughs at my reaction when we are there in less than fifteen minutes.
I actually find it kind of funny that she didn't tell me.
She must've liked having me around.
I look at her and admire the lax way she drives, one hand on the wheel, elbow resting out the window, wisps of hair flying around her sunglasses.
She looks so free and what she said plays over in my head in her posh accent that if I may say so, is a total turn on.
No Privacy Means No Freedom –my new motto.
And she means it. I mean, she hasn't pried at all about my life, why I'm running, where I'm running. She just invited me in as soon as I said I was stuck, and I had also forgotten that people like her existed.
She pulls up to her motel and shuts off the engine.
"Wanna shower? Doesn't have to be together but it could be." There's that flirty smile again and I shake my head, unable to believe that this girl is real.
"What?"
"You're just so real. So honest. So up front with me."
She gets serious again, and is that pity? Is she pitying me right now?
"Sounds like that's something you're not used to…"
Oh my god, she is pitying me. I forgot that people could pity others, what is wrong with me?!
"Come along then." She gets out of the car and I quickly follow, smiling that she was inviting me into her world again. And of course I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to shower with Rey. Blindingly bright Rey who seemed to sizzle away the darkness within me effortlessly.
She unlocks her door and tugs me inside with her, then kicks off her boots and goes to turn on the water. When she reenters, her hair is lose and she removes her shirt revealing a sports bra. I forgot those existed too but something about it was sexier than the usual Victoria Secret lace that I am going to tear off anyway.
She's toned, her ass looking like something you could just knead on. The bra comes off, no shame, all confidence and my mouth goes dry.
Fuck. Those perky little breasts. Those pink buds. I want to taste them.
"Well, what are you waiting for. Off." She flicks her index finger as if she was a witch that could remove my shirt from across the room. Oddly enough I feel bewitched and hurry to pull it off and follow quickly my pants.
That earns a giggle but instead of following my lead and removing her shorts, she looks at me from underneath her lashes and indicates that I follow her with her finger, in that tragically cliché way.
"You're so dorky."
"I'm dorky? Have you seen you smile with your teeth?"
She was right and that's precisely why I hadn't smiled like that in months it felt like, years even, yet the gravedigger Rey has me acting foolish.
My smile grows until I bare my teeth and I snatch her quickly and throw her over my shoulder. Off to the shower we go, and despite her protests I'm able to get her in it, her socks, shorts and underwear still on. She shrieks and swats at me but I quickly slip off my boxer briefs freeing my already hard cock and catch her hands while stepping into the tub.
Breasts have not gotten me this excited in a long time and I need more. Now.
Her pupils are blown, and she keeps my eyes locked as she slowly slips off her shorts and then her panties. I fucking love that she doesn't even take her socks off before she jumps me, our lips crash together, and I hungrily grip her hips.
She fists my hair and pulls hard, groaning into my mouth, and the sound is so wanton, I push her against the tiles needing to hear her again.
She hisses at the cool contact and brings one hand down to scratch down my chest, leaving the skin ablaze. My cock hardens more and I move my kisses down, nipping along the way, until I reach her hardened nipples and trace circles around it with my tongue. She's moaning now, grinding up against my cock and I start to get on my knees for this siren.
"Nuh uh. We have time for that later. I need you in me now." Her voice is so much lower, almost a growl and fuck if that did not make me all the harder.
I'm surprised when she pulls out a condom from the back pocket of the shorts, more so wondering where and when she got it but I don't protest. Rey is clearly smart, of course she uses protection and that I don't mind one bit. She looks out for herself.
Besides, I'm flattered this was somewhat premeditated for her.
She maintains eye contact as she tears it open with her teeth then gently, but decisively grabs my leaking cock and rolls it onto my length. So. Fucking. Sexy.
Once she's done she goes back from lips, the kisses are bruising, hot, wet, leaving us both breathless. I love that she doesn't want to take it slow, she isn't pretending. Even here she is to the point and fuck if I'm not eating that up.
I start attacking her neck and hike up her leg around my waist but I think I'm still too tall so I pick her up entirely and press her comfortably against the wall. She looks so gone and once I have my balance secure, I slide her down on me and oh my god she is so fucking tight.
I can't help the groan that escapes my lips and I take a moment to breathe once she is fully sheathed. "Ben," she breathes out and kisses me rather sweetly before I start to move. She's mewling and I squeeze her ass while I drive upwards, slowly at first but quicker and quicker, like our breaths, our hearts.
The next time she says my birth name it's a moan, and then she's mewling. "Fuck, Ben. Your rubbing my clit every time you pound into me." The words are strangled as they struggle to compete against her cries, and I get it; moans escape my lips with each thrust.
I press my lips to her collar bone and bite and suck and lip until I'm sure the mark will stay for at least a week, needing it to, wishing it would stay forever. I hit some spot inside her and she jolts, tugging my hair and crying out so I keep going at that spot. She chants my name until it stops making sense, but she doesn't seem to care and neither do I.
I'm starting to see a brighter and brighter color, my face pressed into the crook of her neck. I feel her tightening around me until her muscles spasm and I know I can let go too. And I kid you not, I see white, I was out of the darkness, and seeing fucking white.
We fuck three more times before she calls it. Who would've guessed that the sweet gravedigger Rey would be so fucking wanton to fuck four times with a stranger. Once in the shower then on the desk then on the bed twice. We ate some ramen noodles between fucks three and four, her slurping the noodles in the most obscene ways and I laughing at her attempts to be sexy.
To be honest, every attempt was sexy in its own way.
I turn on the television, happy to have some noise to fall asleep to. An infomercial is playing so I start clicking through channels when I see myself and my heart stops.
I'm on the news, apparently my manager, my agent, everyone in Hollywood at this point know I've gone missing and are freaking the fuck out.
The initial horror wears down, only to be replaced by a new one: Rey figuring out who I am. I look down at her, the television screen reflecting in her eyes.
"Hey, that guys looks kind of like you," she murmurs through a yawn before turning over on her side and snuggling deeper into the sheets.
I'm momentarily dumbfounded then she grabs my hand and pulls it over her waist, inviting me in once again. I accept, smiling into her hair, feeling light and blissful.
Feeling found.