It was brimming on 1:30 AM, and his shift wasn't over for five and a half more hours. There was caked mud on the checkered floor tracked in by waiter's mucky converse that broke up the black and white monotiny, and tired customers who were sucked in by the diner's sleepy vibe.

One of the customers was actually asleep, his forehead resting on the white tabletop and light blond hair blocking out his face, a soft snoring coming from his direction. He had a mostly-eaten stack of pancakes next to him, pushed aside to make room for his head on the tabletop.

Alfred, the waiter, refilled a coffee mug as the blond customer grogily raised his head up. He yawned and ran his hands over his tired eyes to try bring some life back into himself. The lights flickered over his table as he leaned back against the bright red booth.

"Uh…Hey." The blond muttered to the seat next to him.

Alfred blinked and stared at him, nearly letting the coffee he was filling spill over, finally noticing when he started accidently pouring it on his hands.

"Dude? Can I get you something?... Are you okay?" Alfred asked, leaning over the counter to try and get the guy's attention, coffee mug in one hand, coffee pot in the other. When he didn't get a reply he sighed, shoved the coffee pot back into the machine, and took the coffee to the only other customer; a hunched over man who was gnawing on an overcooked steak in a dark booth.

"Where, uh...Where am I?" The blond customer asked, covering his eyes with his hands and resting his elbows on the table. His voice was soft like he was whispering, but it almost echoed around the empty diner.

Walking over to the blond's table with another cup of coffee in a mug that advertised a faded bait and tackle shop, Alfred set the cup down in front of him.

"You're in McClannin's 24-hour diner, dude." Alfred said, reaching up to unscrew the lightbulb from the lamp above. This customer had been in the diner from when Alfred started his shift at midnight, sleeping the whole time, and it was a safe assumtion to guess this guy was either exhausted or hung over. At least, to Alfred it was.

"McClannin's?" He muttered. "Vancouver? There isn't a restaurant called that in Vancouver."

"Hey, buddy, what's your name?" Alfred asked, sitting down across from the guy. He set a few creamers down next to the coffee mug that he pulled out of his apron, and was met with incredibly tired eyes.

"...Matthew. Williams...I think...wait, yeah, no, Matthew Williams." He replied, pushing aside his shoulder-length hair behind his ears to see better. He was thankful for the dimmed lights and made a mental note to thank the waiter when he was fully awake. Taking a sip of his coffee, he studied the guy across from him.

A fellow blond kid, with deep-blue eyes and sandy hair with freckles to match. Kinda looked like himself, but more sun-bleached. Matthew noted the dirty glasses hanging off the waiter's shirt collar and his chapped lips.

"Well, Matthew, I'm Alfred. And uh, sorry to break it to you, but you're not in Vancouver. Well, not Vancouver, Canada at least. Or Vancouver Island. You know what, never mind, you're not in Vancouver at all."

Matthew jerked his mouth away from his mug as the coffee burnt his lip, nearly thudding it against the tabletop..

"I'm not, not… where am I then?" He stuttered out, fully awake now and back to his normal, nervous self.

He didn't remember this place. He didn't remember falling asleep in a questionable diner in an unknown place, drinking watery coffee across from a waiter who looked like he should be a high school senior. Where the hell was he?

"Sanooq, Washington State!"

Matthew blinked in response.

"I'm Alfred, I just turned 19 a few days ago, and I live here! Well not, here-here, but I live close." Alfred said eagerly, brightening up now that Matthew seemed more awake. "It's nice here but... it's not on any maps... How'd you get here?"

"Ok, well, um… I'm Matthew, 19, Canadian," Matthew blurted out, looking around the diner. He pulled the blind slits apart to look at the night outside."I was in Canada a few days ago, I think... I, um, so, I'm in the U.S.? Thats...uh, well..."

Matthew sunk down into the booth and ran his hands through his hair, pulling the blond strands down across his eyes. He pulled at a dead skin strip on his lip and kneaded his hands into his sweatshirt.

"How did I get here?"