Title: I Could Still See the Postcards
Author: Roguester
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.
Recommended background music: Seven Years by Saosin

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Chapter 8: Empty Locker

(Lily)

I imagine myself tearing the house down – bandanna in place, guitar in hand.

I imagine Robbie in the front row – doing some sort of a 'running man' move that's too embarrassing to describe. Then Ray would be right beside him, cheering his heart out while waving a lighter in the air. And Travis would be onstage with me, working his magic on the turntables – sweat on his brow, smirk on his face.

I imagine the audience nodding to my music, thinking "Yeah... I get what she's singing."

I imagine lots of things. But most of all I imagine the four of us together. Just us – Question Mark, Pronto, Smog, and Shady Lane – messing around the station together.

Together. But that rarely happens now. That's why I've been imagining a lot these days.

Typically we would have been at the cafeteria, eating breakfast while trying to listen to Cougar Radio's 'Morning Medicine.' Typically Ray would have been cracking jokes and Travis would have been rubbing his chin at whatever Ray just said. And typically Robbie would have been disrupting our antics and saying, 'Hey guys, we really need to discuss today's show..."

But we weren't discussing today's show. We weren't even at the cafeteria.

We were separated this morning.

Somewhere to my far right Robbie is arguing with Kim Carlisle. But I know that right beneath the surface they're really flirting with each other.

Somewhere down the hall Mr. Waller caught Ray racing towards the water fountain. He got detention, of course... but at least he nodded a weak 'hello' towards my way.

Somewhere within the city limits Travis is running an important errand with his parents, causing him to miss school. Except he said that it was more of a 'journey' than an actual 'errand.' And I didn't exactly know what he meant by it...

So apparently the show will be pre-recorded today. Kim hooked Robbie into doing inventory with her after school and Travis won't be back from his 'journey' soon enough. Plus, with Ray in detention I was left with the responsibility of running the show myself. Which wouldn't be that hard because it only requires putting some CD's into a CD player.

So yes, the show will be pre-recorded today.

That's why right after school I made my way towards Travis' locker to get a couple of CD's that I knew he had. I don't know, Robbie had Travis re-label them because they didn't have the dates on the case. Or maybe they didn't have the time. Or the titles. Yeah, stupid titles like "The Pre-Recorded Show Where Pronto Called Smog A Dumb-Butt" or "The Pre-Recorded Show Where Shady Lane Permanently Killed Off Torpedo."

So I turned the combination lock. Twenty-four. Eleven. Thirty-three. I opened the door and searched for the CD's, but I couldn't find them because they weren't there. I couldn't find them because nothing was there... even the Bruce Lee pictures were gone.

The locker was empty.

I stood there like an idiot, staring at the emptiness as if nothing was missing. As if nothing was wrong. Because nothing was wrong. Nothing. Travis just... took all his stuff home, that's all. He took them all home because... I don't know, he needed to label them or something. Yeah, that must be it. That must be it because any other reason would sound more realistic than 'Travis dropped out of school.' Any other reason would sound more realistic than 'Travis is leaving Roscoe.'

Besides, it's just an empty locker. Nothing to worry about. Nothing like dead air at 4pm.

I barely made it to the studio in time so I only had five minutes to set everything up. But before I could even find any of our pre-recorded broadcasts laying around, I spotted Travis sitting in his booth.

"I was hoping you'd come," he said.

"Hey Trav," I greeted – calm and steady as if nothing's wrong, "I thought you were with your parents."

"I was. I just... needed to see you," he explained.

Calm and steady, I moved away from the door and towards the chair where Travis was sitting. Calm and steady, I walked towards him and wrapped my arms around him as if everything was okay. Calm and steady, I drowned in his embrace...

Calm and steady as if nothing was wrong.

"Lily..." Travis started. But I quickly shook my head and shut my eyes as I firmly held onto the front of his shirt. I shook my head and shut my eyes and said no, no, no, don't say anything because I didn't want to hear it.... I didn't want to hear ANY of it. But I knew he eventually had to say something so I breathed in and braced myself... calm and steady so it won't hurt much.

"I'm leaving Roscoe," he finally said.

And I imagine lots of things. But most of all I imagine the two of us. Just us – Travis and Lily – having fun while making another record together. Together. But that will never happen now...

We were separated this afternoon. Dead air at 4pm.

Slowly, I extracted myself from his arms, searching my brain for something profound to say. Something angry... something really really angry so I can charge towads him and pound my fists on his chest over and over again. But I couldn't... I couldn't say anything except "You can't leave yet, you just got here..."

You just got here... you just got here. I said it again and again... calm and steady, but it hurts so much. Travis brushed my hair away from my face and said "I know, I know" and he was crying because he couldn't do anything else. "I know, I know," he said, and I was crying too because I was scared... so scared of how I'm gonna feel afterwards.

With tears in his eyes, Travis forced a sad smile and brushed a thumb across my lips. "We're running on dead air," he said softly, and for the first time that day I let out a small laugh. He went into his booth, flipped on some switches, and asked me if I still wanted a countdown. But I just shook my head and said, "No, I'll count you down" as I put on my earphones and started from five... four... three... two... one.

"This is Radio Free Roscoe," Travis said... perhaps for the last time ever.

And I wish I could say that the time stood still, but it didn't. As a matter of fact, it kept going and going at a faster rate than I wanted it to go. And before I knew it the hour was up, and despite my protests I knew that I had to leave. So I reached out my hand and traced it along his jawline... and as the tears rolled down my cheeks I closed my eyes and said, "Goodbye."

But a response wasn't spoken as his hand closed upon my fingers and his lips descended on my mouth – a silent message that he's letting me go...

A silent message that he's not much for goodbyes.

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A/N: Still downloading my music recommendations? Well, I must say that today's rec (Saosin's Seven Years) is my current favorite song. So if you're gonna download it, I suggest that you get the acoustic version. It's excellent, I tell you. It's sad, and painful, and perfect for this chapter.

P.S. Caalan is teh sex.