Larry's POV:

"Heading out now! See you in a bit." I sent that text about 15 minutes ago to Poppy and almost immediately she responded. "Ok cool :)" My guess is she must have been waiting around for my message since I would start driving her to campus today. A small smirk had come to my lips at the thought. Pops always seemed so anxious when it came to people sharing any form of care towards her. It reminded me a little of myself, so I totally got that feeling. At the same time, it made me even more curious to learn about this new stranger in our group. Every time the gang got together and hung out she blended right in as though she had been around for years. Took me back to the first time Sal and I met. We just clicked and practically became best friends overnight. With Poppy, it feels tangled somehow. When she first came over to my place with Ash and Sal, I braced for another failed encounter with a new "friend" that Ash found.

Only to be met with this tiny ball of an enigma and sass, with big mismatched eyes. Todd was right, though. Her eyes were fascinating. They captured my attention, and during her moments of intense focus, they became even more alluring. The memory of standing over Pops in her kitchen suddenly rushed into my mind like a speeding train. The expression on her round soft face, rosy cheeks against cool beige skin, her dainty lips agape in surprise, and those eyes. One that reminded me of a deep rich honey and the other like waves at the beach. The mental image was as clear as glass like it was branded into my brain.

As I pulled up to Pops' apartment, I shook my head and rubbed my eyes roughly until I saw small sparkles behind closed lids, pushing everything into the back of my mind. Get a hold of yourself, dumbass!

Poppy's POV:

"Yo, I'm downstairs!"

As soon as I saw the message from Larry, I was out the door. Being up since 8 am, I was ready long before his first text. Part of me was tempted to walk with Ash and let Lar know not to worry about the ride, but I was committed. I wanted, no, needed, to be more open to receiving support, especially when I had people trying so hard for me. Riding the elevator down, I glanced at the outfit I had on. A baggy dark blue, The Devil Wears Prada band T-shirt, black shorts, and checkered vans. With my bangs falling around my face, I had my hair styled up on my head. For something so simple, I thought it was a cute look.

Existing the building, Larry already had his passenger window down and waved with a lighthearted smile, egging me to hurry over. "Top of the mornin' to ya, lassie! Ye, chauffeur has arrived!" He enthusiastically said in his best Irish accent. Laughing as I opened the door, I removed my backpack and placed it inside. With a goofy grin, Lar was dressed in black jeans and a black and orange tie-dye shirt featuring the band Korn. The same bright highlighter safety vest hung from his headrest. "Good Lord, it's like I'm being picked up by Jacksepticeye!"

"Hey, Jack is an Irish treasure!" He claimed.

"Not gonna argue with that." Chuckling, he pulled my bag further into the seat, giving me space to climb in and shut the door. "Thanks for coming to give me a ride."

"Eh, it's nothing. Like I said, I go to work right after dropping you off, so it's not a problem." He pulled away from my apartment and took a quick glance at me. "Nice shirt! I haven't heard that band since high school."

"Thanks! I still have some of their older songs on my playlist, but two of my favorites are Danger: Wildman and Louder than Thunder."

"Shit, Danger: Wildman brings back memories. Now I'm feeling all nostalgic! Here…" Without removing his eyes from the road, his hand reached down and unplugged the aux cord from his phone, before handing the cord to me. "Go ahead and put it on."

"Oh, hell yeah!" When I took the aux cord, our fingers brushed for the briefest moment, and I saw Larry swiftly return his hand to the wheel. Though I didn't think much of it since he was driving. My eyes scanned through my playlist until I found the song of nostalgia and then a sudden blast of drums and harsh metal screams knocked us back to our younger years. The immediate urge to headbang overwhelmed my body as I fought back with a more tamed and rhythmic motion, paired with my best imitation of air drumming. Peaking over at Larry, I could see he was having the same internal battle as I. His knuckles were turning white from his grip on the wheel, but his expression showed concentration and an amused smirk as his head bobbed in much smaller swings. As the drum's dense beats and swelling guitar rifts engrossed our bodies, we bellowed out the chorus carelessly. The zest ambiance in the truck awakened a sensation I hadn't felt in forever. The intimate itch to thrash and move my body freely. To dance in a blind flurry.

Being pulled out of my hypnotic state, the mellow melodic voice beside me drew my attention in.

"All mistakes can be marked by borders…" Larry sang still keeping his eyes ahead as he continued. "... All of love can be traced to a maker… It seems as if what is most important… Isn't noticed when forgotten!" The longing tune lingered, creating a temporary calm atmosphere, before the fall back into an aggressive crescendo took over, bringing the song to its end.

"Damn, I am for sure adding that onto my playlist! Gonna have to listen to the entire album now." He let out an ecstatic chuckle.

"After all these years, the song hasn't lost its chaotic charm." I smiled to myself as I scrolled through my playlist for another song. "By the way, I didn't know you could sing, over here holding out on secret talents!" I poked at his arm teasingly. "Pfft shut up! It's nothing special. I was in choir for a little bit back in middle school. One of those electives that you somehow end up in, despite not having a choice." He explained. "Well for what it's worth, I think it paid off. You have a nice voice."

A smug smirk grew on his face with an arched brow. "Oh yeah? Well, maybe my sultry voice still has a chance in music. Too bad that's not exactly my cup of weed. The idea of being a celebrity and being tossed into the public eye seems like such a drag."

"You do have a point there. Could you imagine the trouble of wanting to hang out with your friends or go out, then end up being hounded down by the paparazzi?" An uneasy chill ran up my spine. "The thought alone gives me the creeps. I always feel so bad for the celebrities who try to go about their day normally, yet as soon as they are outside their home, bang! A camera is being shoved into their faces."

Larry nodded in agreement. "It's fucking nuts how a bit of fame could twist the minds of people."

"Well there's no need to become the next best thing. Personally, I think there's nothing better than just singing for fun. No expectations and no pressure. Just freedom and bliss of the music!" I gave him a wink when he looked over; hoping to brighten things up. A grateful curl came to Larry's lips. "You may have a point, Pops. Maybe I'll stick to shower concerts and stage diving off of my couch from now on." Sniggering at the thought, I finally found our drive's next menu selection: Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas. "Well, I think we have time for an encore after the first performance!" I gave him a gleeful smirk, and Larry responded with a toothy grin before cranking up the music, letting us sing as loudly as we wanted.