the drummer and the runaway- gareth/male reader

shitty motels and shittier towns

You were running out of ideas on where to go. Being a teen on the run is a lot more complicated than you had previously thought, but there was no going back now. From the fake driver's license and last name, to the old pickup truck you stole and replaced the plates, if you got caught now it meant having to go back. And you sure as hell weren't gonna to go back without a fight. Looking back down towards a crumpled map that occupied the passenger seat, miscellaneous marks strewn over the places you've already been. All you needed was somewhere close enough so you don't waste all of your money on gas without anything left to spend on anything else, and a place they won't try or think to look for you. Finger tracing over the various cities and states, it landed on Indiana. It was close enough, as you were already basically on the border that connected the state and Ohio. The only question now was to find a city. Taking a closer peek at the map, one of them stood out. Hawkins, Indiana–you could work with that.

- - -

Pulling into the parking lot–if you could even call it that–of some shithole barren motel, you wondered if maybe Hawkins wasn't the best idea. Okay, screw that, Indiana in general was a shitty idea and going somewhere like New York would've been better. Hawkins was a smaller town, at least by your standards, so that meant everyone in everyone's business. It was certainly not ideal, but nobody would ever look here either. So you could just create a life here until you turn eighteen in less than two years and they can't make you go back. Sure it was a stretch especially with the fact you technically have committed crimes, such as stealing a truck, but that was irrelevant.

Hopping out of the truck, you grabbed your bag and headed into the motel. Even though staying in the pickup made you more comfortable when it came to being able to get out and keeping your belongings safe, you needed to sleep in a bed and shower. Paying out for a week sounded fairly reasonable and if you stayed longer, you could just add on the days or just wander around the town.

Plus, it wasn't like you didn't have any money to spend anyways, as it turns out you're pretty good at gambling, all things considered. That goes along with the fact that you started off with a couple hundred bucks you stole from your friend. Boyfriend? Ex? Whatever. It's not like you were going back to him any time soon, he's the whole reason you left anyway. Worst part about it is that you thought you could trust him and that he meant it when he told you he understood what you felt; you thought he loved you like you loved him. Except it turned out he just loved using you, so here we are. But there's no point in lingering on the part you were so desperate to escape. Instead you went to the counter and booked a room.

The whole time you were at the desk, the lady had looked at you like you were crazy to even be in Hawkins, let alone staying for a whole week. She had even asked if you were lost or mistaken, but she didn't complain as it was clear you had been the majority of her business in a while.

Walking down to your room you saw that even though the place had been so small, it was still so empty, sans yourself and a couple people who didn't look like they had just been on a vacation. As you walked into the room the smell of mildew and weed filled your senses. The first thing you did after you put down your bag was take a shower. It wasn't pleasant by any means, but you were at least a little cleaner than you were before.

You supposed you could get out of the motel for a little bit, considering it was only the beginning of March, going out wasn't the best idea, but the idea of having the freedom to just go and wander in the woods or something was the only thought you wanted to listen to. So yeah, that sounded good. And with that you took your bag back off of the bed and went for a drive.