Author's Notes: Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! You have all helped me get my writing groove back :) I'm sort of a self-conscious writer, so I get nervous with every chapter I post. I appreciate every opinion, thought and idea readers have because it helps motivate me and guide the story along.
**I've decided to use music again in this chapter, probably way too much in this section but I couldn't help myself. I think music can almost act as a soundtrack for our lives at times, so I wanted to add that aspect to this particular section because I thought it fit. I also listened to a lot music when I wrote this, which may also be an explanation.
These songs are all available online by searching the titles and artists. I strongly suggest listening to them to get the feel of the music.
- "It Ends Tonight" by All American Rejects
- "Wild Horses" by the Sundays
- "Look After You" by the Fray (also used in my previous story – Bates Motel: Gone)
- "Shattered (Turn the Car Around)" by O.A.R
This hasn't been edited yet, but I wanted to post as soon as I could.
I hope you enjoy…
Chapter 9: Shattered
Dylan can feel his eyelids grow increasingly heavier as he continues to drive down the lonely highway.
The last month has taken an emotional toll on the young man and it seems to finally be catching up to him during this road trip. The loss of the only relationship he's felt completely invested in with Emma started the downfall, but this last blow up with his mother has pushed him over the edge.
To distract himself from his apparent exhaustion, Dylan decides to blast the volume to his radio speakers. His intention is to block out all of the negative thoughts circling his mind right now and to once again push his feelings aside to reach the comforting numb stage he's become accustomed to over the years.
Unfortunately for Dylan, the music has the opposite effect ("It Ends Tonight"- All American Rejects).
"Your subtleties, they strangle me
I can't explain myself at all
And all that wants, And all that needs, All I don't want to need at all"
The words start to make the young man sit up a little straighter and squeeze the wheel a little tighter.
"The walls start breathing, My mind's un-weaving, Maybe it's best you leave me alone
A weight is lifted, On this evening, I give the final blow, When darkness turns to light
It ends tonight, It ends tonight"
He knows this song and before he even realizes it, the words start to create an overwhelming sense of bitterness within him.
"A falling star, Least I fall alone
I can't explain what you can't explain, Your finding things that you didn't know
I look at you with such disdain"
The song starts to blend in with everything that has happened in his recent past. All of a sudden the music starts to become almost an anthem to him, a validation of his frustrating emotions with not only Emma but also the situation with his mother.
Now his thoughts develop from the recent past to the not so recent past. His childhood not being such a distant memory anymore.
All of it hurts.
"When darkness turns to light, It ends tonight, It ends tonight
Just a little insight will make this right. It's too late to fight.
It ends tonight, It ends tonight
Now I'm on my own side, It's better than being on your side
It's better that I see it through your eyes, All these thoughts locked inside
Now you're the first to know"
Dylan clears his throat roughly to relieve the mounting tightness in his windpipe. Struggling with the wounded emotions creeping into his heart, Dylan tries to distract himself again while the music fades into the background.
With a quick glance to his right he sees a sign advertising a local coffee shop and diner, a very welcomed sight at the moment.
Without a second thought, Dylan promptly jerks the wheel to the left with a squeal of his tires and speeds into the driveway of the little shop. The frustrated young man promptly turns off the engine, takes a deep breath and then reaches into his pocket to retrieve his cell. After hovering his right index finger over the screen for a few minutes, Dylan hesitantly presses the call button.
"Hey," the voice mutters over the line. "Something going on?"
"Hey man," Dylan pauses for a moment. "Um- well, actually there is. I'm leaving town."
"Alright no problem, Remo and I got this. When will you back?" Gunner asks, not catching onto the subtle changes in his boss's usual confident tone.
"I'm not coming back Gunner." Dylan doesn't miss the barely-there sound of a gasp thru the phone. "Before you say anything, I don't want to talk about it," he sighs. "I just wanted to give you a heads up and tell you, I'll be in touch once I figure everything out."
"Yeah, sure. But, are you o–"
Before Gunner can finish his question, Dylan ends the call.
After roughly shoving the phone back into his pocket, Dylan drags his exhausted body out of the driver's seat and then slams the truck door shut behind him. As he trudges to the entrance of the diner, coffee becomes the new overwhelming thought in his mind.
XXXX
"I hate not knowing what is happening!" Norma exclaims as she paces back and forth in the kitchen with balled fists at her side.
The Sheriff rests on one of the chairs in the kitchen, casually tracking her movements with his eyes. "I know you do, but this isn't something you can control." Romero then checks the clock hanging on a nearby wall, realizing he's been with Norma a little too long not to be noticed by her other son. "I should go. Norman will notice I'm here for too long to be a brief encounter."
Norma quickly rushes to her man's side and leans over to lightly touch the palms of her hands to the sides of his cheeks. "No! You can't leave me! Please Alex!" She leans even closer to kiss his forehead in desperation.
"I know you want me to stay but Norman is observant and he'll figure this out, unless you're ready to let him know we're together." Romero notices her shake her head frantically in response to his words. In seeing her reaction, he gently grips her wrists and slowly pulls them away while he stands from his chair. "Why don't you make up an excuse and come with me?
Her blue eyes light up and a small smile forms on her face in relief of not being rejected. "Yes!" She claps once excitedly, almost like a giggly child. "I'll tell Norman you came here to tell me that I need to attend a last minute community meeting regarding the zoning of the motel. He'll believe it because of the paperwork we've been supposedly passing back and forth to each other through Dylan."
"Alright, I'll leave now." Romero then takes her hands in his and lifts them to his lips to kiss each of her knuckles. "I'll see you soon."
"Oh and Alex, act like you're angry when you go down the steps and maybe slam your squad door." She orders playfully while following him closely to the front hallway. "We have to seem upset with each other."
"Whatever you want Norma," the Sheriff forces a smile while he reaches for the front doorknob. "I'm too old for this secret shit." Romero grumbles under his breath, just before he pretends to furiously stomp down the outdoor steps.
Romero fails to notice a pair of piercing blue eyes glaring at him through the motel office window.
30 minutes later …
"Well, that didn't take long." The Sheriff flashes a grin while stepping aside holding his now open front door. "Any issues with Norman?"
Norma strolls past the man with a small inviting smile, reaching her hand out slightly to trail her fingertips across his t-shirt covered abs. "No issues. I told him about the meeting tonight, well, fake meeting. Besides he has his book club meeting tonight and then his routine is to go to bed early since he has the morning shift at the motel," she casually mentions while walking toward the couch before settling down on one of the cushions. "He won't realize I'm gone."
After watching his girlfriend step around him, Romero shuts his front door and then moves to join Norma in the living room. "Did you say book club?" He couldn't hold back his snicker while asking, earning a scowl from Norma.
"Yes! That is exactly what I said!" Norma exclaims in a defensive tone while sitting up a little straighter on the sofa and throwing her hands in the air, demonstrating obvious irritation to the Sheriff's teasing. "I can't have another dead animal on display in my house Alex. I just can't!" She raises the volume of her voice briefly, but then quickly catches her breath. "He needs a healthier hobby than stuffing dead things," she whispers.
"And a book club was your best idea?" Romero jokes as he takes a seat next to her, immediately wrapping his right arm loosely around her stiffened shoulders. He smirks when Norma instinctively cuddles into his side.
"No. Actually, it was my 4th best idea smarty pants. Right behind joining the local theater, taking a writing class and learning to paint at the community college." Norma answers as she leans her head against his broad chest, snuggling her slender body against his muscular one even more. She then gradually glides her nose closer to his neck and slowly breathes in his musky scent radiating from his skin. "All of which have failed to stop the overwhelming smell combination of animal carcass and formaldehyde from consuming my basement," she sighs in frustration.
"Now he's constantly begging to hang those things in my living room. That is the reason that god awful bird is hanging on the wall above the fireplace. Don't even get me started on that ridiculous stuffed dog in his room. Every time I put his laundry away, I dread going in there and having its beady little eyes staring at me." As Norma continues to speak, she feels Romero's hand rub her soothingly up and down her shoulder to calm her. "I can't handle another dead thing," she murmurs under her breath.
Now sorry he even kept the conversation about Norman's supposed hobby going, the Sheriff leans down to kiss the top of her hair but again he can't contain the tiny uncontrollable chuckle that escapes his lungs. Quickly, Romero does his best to cover it up with a cough, luckily Norma doesn't notice. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to get you all worked about this. I completely understand, Love."
Norma beams at the pet name he has recently started using for her, until a muffled chirp from her purse interrupts the sentiment. Hastily, Norma wiggles out of Romero's arms to frantically dig through her handbag, hoping by some miracle it is her eldest son sending the message. Deep down though, she knows this isn't Dylan reaching out to her. The best she could expect from this notification is good news from Emma about her stubborn son.
Once she has the phone in her hand, she closely studies the text on the display.
"I'm at the cabin, but he isn't here yet. I'll let you know when I hear from him. – Emma"
Norma sends a basic message in response with shaky fingers. In a panic, she glances over her shoulder with tears gathering in the corner of her eyes to meet Romero's concerned stare. "He's not at the cabin, Alex. What if he left for good?"
Seeing his love's distress, the Sheriff leans over and gently takes ahold of Norma's waist. Carefully he slides her body closer to his and gathers her in his arms. In his mind, he isn't entirely sure Dylan will return to White Pine Bay, but he feels compelled to soothe her even if his true feelings are unsure. "Dylan will be back Norma. Just give him time," he whispers while placing his lips to the back of her neck. "Emma doesn't suspect you know about them being together, right?"
Norma leans back into his warmth with her back to his chest. "She doesn't know. Emma thinks I called her because Dylan considers her as a friend and I don't know how to get ahold of anyone else he speaks to. I don't want to confront them Alex, I want them both to trust me enough to tell me," she closes her eyes momentarily to bask in his firm embrace. "I have hope one day, they will."
XXXX
Emma takes a look at the clock on her phone with a frown, disappointed when she notices over an hour has passed since she arrived at the cabin. Even with the day sky fading to darkness, she still remains confident Dylan will return.
Suddenly the phone vibrates in her hands for the 5th time this evening, but this time it isn't a panicked Norma on the other line like all of the previous distressed calls.
Emma squints her eyes in confusion when she doesn't recognize the number showing on the display. "Hello?"
"Hey, um Emma? It's me, Gunner. I need to talk to you."
"Ok? What is this about?" She questions hurriedly out of curiosity.
"Well, I don't want to tell you this but I have to."
Emma holds in a breath while waiting for Gunner to continue, fearing the worst. "Tell me," she insists.
"There's no easy way to say this, but he's left town and I don't think he's coming back."
As soon as the words slip into her ear, Emma's stomach drops and her entire body shutters. She shakes her head, but no sound leaves her vocal chords.
"I know you are with him or was with him, well, I'm not sure if you are anymore?"
"What?" Emma gasps, shocked at the realization that maybe they weren't as secretive as they thought. "Why do you think we're together?" She asks in almost a whisper.
Gunner snickers. "You both are terrible liars and you sure can't keep a secret. Me and Remo used to laugh at all of your attempted cover-ups. The unexpected drop-ins because of some bull-shit excuse, the uncomfortable conversations we were forced to listen to and worst of all, the heart eyes you used to make at each other when you thought we weren't looking."
"Oh," is all Emma can muster as a response.
"Look, all I know is that Dylan was happy and then within the last month or so, he changed. All of a sudden, he wasn't the same guy anymore."
"We- we had an argument," she stutters trying to hold in her sniffles.
"Sorry Emma, I just thought you should know. Dylan said he will be in touch with me and Remo about the business, I can let you know when he calls."
Slowly she releases her held breath in an attempt to collect herself. Emma refuses to believe her boyfriend would leave her without a goodbye, even with the disagreement they had she knows he'll come back to her. "He'll be back," she says weakly. "But, thank you for calling Gunner."
After hanging up the call, Emma pulls her jacket tighter around herself to help shield against the cold. Wanting to be the first vision Dylan sees when he returns to the cabin, Emma decides to remain on the front porch of the cabin. She takes a seat on the porch swing bench and slowly rocks herself in a calming matter. In an attempt to provide Norma some relief, Emma sends a quick message to advise she'll keep her updated. She conveniently chooses to not include her recent conversation with Gunner in the text. Immediately after sending the message, Emma silences her phone and decides instead to put the earbuds stored in her jacket pocket in her ears to listen to music stored on her cell. As the music begins, Emma seeks comfort and finds herself gradually sinking lower and lower on the bench until she's completely lying down.
Ever since her disagreement with Dylan, she's found it difficult to sleep. Now, her eyelids begin to droop and before she even realizes it, Emma is stretched out on the swing. While using her hands as a pillow, she allows her thoughts to go blank.
The song ringing through her ears, is a familiar one and for some reason begins to relax her even more ("Wild Horses"- The Sundays).
"Wild horses, couldn't drag me away. Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away.
I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain. Now you decided to show me the same.
So no, no sweeping exits or, or offstage lines.
Can make me, can make me feel bitter, or treat you unkind.
No, no, no
Wild horses, couldn't drag me away. Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away..."
Before the song comes to an end, Emma has drifted off into a restless sleep.
XXXX
Dylan has been sitting in the diner for almost 2 hours now, mostly staring out the window watching the unexpected rain fall and hearing the frequent drops hitting against the glass.
The food in front of him is nearly untouched and long since warm, but the coffee has been refilled so many times he's lost count. Unconsciously, he grasps with a shaky grip the mug full of coffee set next to him once again gulping down the heated drink. His face scrunches up almost immediately when the liquid burns the surface of his tongue, obviously a new cup that he didn't realized was refilled.
The sudden discomfort snaps him out of his lifeless stare. To cool down his mouth that now feels on fire, he reaches for the glass of water he pushed aside earlier and quickly swallows it down. Instantly feeling relief, Dylan takes in a deep breath thru his lungs before gaining the waitress' attention to pay his bill for the mostly uneaten food on the plate in front of him and the million cups of coffee he must've digested since he'd arrived.
Before leaving the diner, Dylan walks into the bathroom to prepare for his trip he's not sure he even wants to continue to take anymore. After relieving himself and washing his hands, he glares at himself in the mirror. With the water still running through the faucet, Dylan watches the water fall steadily between his fingers for a couple of minutes before splashing his face. The palms of his hands slowly drag down his face and then grabs for a paper towel.
When he finally feels ready to leave the tiny yet relatively comfortable diner, Dylan swiftly jogs to his truck to escape at least some of the rain. Once safely inside with minimal dampness seeped into his clothing, he clasps his seatbelt and starts the engine. Without a second thought, the young man turns the music back on and steers out of the parking lot to drive on the now darkened lonely highway.
About 20 minutes into the drive, the satellite radio station he's been listening to through his speakers is starting to give him a headache. The intensity of his typical favorite music is doing nothing to help the situation so he decides to press the next pre-set station when a familiar song comes over the airwaves.
It's her favorite song. ("Look After You" – The Fray)
It's his own fault, he shouldn't have pressed the station Emma insisted she had to set in his truck months ago. Though instead of changing it Dylan allows it play with a shrug of his shoulders, not recognizing the emotions it's already starting to stir. The tune is already half way over anyway he figures.
"There now, steady love, so few come and don't go
Will you won't you, be the one I always know?
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down
Oh, oh Oh, oh Be my baby
Oh, oh Oh, oh Be my baby
I'll look after you And I'll look after you
If ever there was a doubt, My love she leans into me
This Most assuredly counts, She says most assuredly"
Dylan shakes his head once, as if attempting to erase the rising conflicting thoughts in his mind with the simple action. Of course the feelings in his soul only become even stronger and more confusing with every musical note.
"It's always have and never hold, You've begun to feel like home yeah
What's mine is yours to leave or take, What's mine is yours to make your own
Oh, oh Oh, oh Be my baby
Oh, oh Oh, oh Be my baby"
Finally when the last beat of the song ends, the young man sadly feels no reprieve to the ache in his heart or the guilt emerging within him. "Stop thinking!" He orders himself out loud while narrowing his focus to the wet pavement, attempting to block out everything but the road.
After another annoying commercial advertising something he could care less about booms through the speakers, the next song infiltrates his unsuspecting eardrums. ("Shattered: Turn the Car Around" – O.A.R.)
Dylan empties his lungs with a sigh of relief and leans back a little more in his seat when he doesn't recognize the tune, causing him to feel somewhat safe in his thoughts. The rhythm causes him to unconsciously drum his fingers against the steering wheel and even hum along to the beat. Unfortunately for him, the hidden meaning behind the words embedded within the catchy melody start to surface.
"In a way I need a change, From this burnout scene
Another time Another town, Another everything
But it's always back to you
His shoulders feel tense all of a sudden and his breath is a tad tougher to catch when the significance of the lyrics become more vivid and a little clearer.
"Stumble out in the night, From the pouring rain
Made the block sat and thought, There's more I need
It's always back to you
But I'm good without ya, Yeah I'm good without you"
Is he better without Emma, or even without his mother? Long past recollections and not so distant memories are once again circulating his mind, joined with ideas of possible futures if a different choice is made.
With all of the confusion he's feeling at the moment, his hands begin to shake as his heart skips a beat or two and his pulse accelerates frenziedly. He continually thinks to himself… 'What is he doing? Why is he really leaving? Can he really live without them?' The truck shimmies on the road, a dangerous combination of heavy rain on the asphalt, the darkened sky and the way his body is reacting beyond his control.
"How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can't define what I'm after
I always turn the car around
Give me a break let me make my own pattern
All that it takes is some time but I'm shattered
I always turn the car around"
The steering wheel begins to shift almost on its own in his unsteady grip while the ride becomes increasingly rougher when the tires hit gravel where the road surface no longer reaches.
"How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can't define what I'm after
I always turn the car around
All that I feel is the realness I'm faking
Taking my time but it's time that I'm wasting
Always turn the car around"
Dylan's emotions continue to be all over the place, similar to the way his truck is handling the road currently but he ignores it. The blatant disregard for his own safety is none of his concern right now, even though it should be his first priority especially in this condition. He continues to push through it all, driving further and further until he can't take the overwhelming sense he's making a terrible mistake that he won't be able to recover from.
Suddenly, it hits him like a freight train.
He can't do this anymore.
He can't continue to run away when things get difficult, he's not a teenager anymore.
"Shit," Dylan grumbles to himself with a groan as he erratically jerks the steering wheel to take a sharp left rotation.
Needless to say, he turns the truck around.
The tires squeal loudly on the asphalt while at the same time it almost feels as if one section of the vehicle floats up from the ground with the abrupt momentum. As Dylan attempts to safely complete the impulsive movement, the passenger side wheels dip into the gravel ditch causing the young man to lose control…
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I hope I didn't make a mistake writing this chapter. I feel like it may have been a little more chaotic than I usually write. Thank you for taking the time to read this!