[+] Amarillo

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2D and I reached Beirut, on the coast of Lebanon, by sundown.

He led me to a rundown residence near a crumbling harbor. It was surely a beautiful place in the past. Sadly, time had worn what was left of it into a state of disrepair.

A tool shack built off the pier collapsed into the sea beneath it, the foundation having rotted through in its entirety. Waves cradled the decaying wood, rolling softly, drenching the atmosphere in salt and brine. An endless expanse of fog spread over the distant waters. It crawled inland, devouring the details of the scene in its wake. The air was crisp. It was unusually cold.

2D approached the decrepit dock carefully. He eyed its structural integrity, trying to determine if it was sturdy enough to support the both of us before getting a foothold on the pier. Satisfied, he stepped gracefully to the side, bowing and ushering me to go ahead.

There was a small white boat tied to the dock. It was much like the one I escaped with in Essex. Plaid comforters covered the seats. An old stereo sat crookedly atop a styrofoam cooler. Clutter filled every empty space until the bottom boards of the hull were no longer visible. There was an inkling of familiarity in how close it looked to 2D's room when we were trapped on Plastic Beach.

I hesitantly climbed into the boat and wrapped myself in one of the blankets. Despite having probably been untended for some time, it smelled faintly of lavender, like it had been freshly washed.

"This is... Lovely," I whispered.

"Yew fink? I was sort ov hopin' fo' a clear night. Fog's not so bad I guess, if yew like et."

I waited for him to fill the quietude between the trill of insects and the rippling tides. He said nothing. He sat across from me. Without a word, he cut the rope and began paddling us away from the dock.

As the boat drew further into the gloom, our surroundings faded into the background. Time slowed to a crawl.

Things carried on like this for a long while. We listened only to the lapping current and the paddle's weak disruptions to it. 2D grinned at me, as charming as he had ever been. Absentmindedly, he licked his tongue over his teeth.

I stared vacantly into the mist. There was no sign of anyone or anything anywhere. We were alone within the silvery shroud of night. I returned my attention to 2D.

"I wanted to show yew somefink."

"And what's that?"

"I've been workin' on my own album," he exhaled nervously, "Murdoc didn't fink et would fit wifth the sound he was lookin' fo' 'n told me to drop et. I fought yew might appreciate et enyway."

I didn't know what to say. I smiled at him meekly, feeling special. I was flattered that he wanted to share something so personal with me. It was a privilege to listen to the raw, unrefined sound of a work in progress. I averted my gaze to hide that I was blushing.

The enveloping haze served to create an oddly romantic setting. The cool wetness tingled like needles beneath the surface of my skin. I tightened the blanket around my shoulders.

2D turned the stereo on. He inserted a damp violet cassette tape into it, upside down at first, and clicked it shut. He fiddled with a few buttons. The speakers came to life.

An industrial, low frequency hum vibrated through my bones. I was immediately taken aback by the quality of such an old stereo.

I expected him to play a studio recording. To my surprise, 2D had something different in mind.

"The mountains are waiting,
The full moon has come - "

2D shut his eyes. He took hold of my hand. His vocals echoed in the emptiness.

His figure adopted a blue tint in the moonlight. It suited him wonderfully. He was serene. If he hadn't been singing, I could have mistaken him for being asleep.

"I got lost on highways -
But don't ask me where I've been,
Or what I've done."

His voice was smooth as it traveled over the brackish water. His trembling chords soothed my aching head and appeased the pain in the the far reaches of my heart. I felt heard. I felt understood.

He must have had that effect on many broken people.

"Oh Lord, send me transmission -
Forgive me, for what I've become.
The sun is gonna save me;
Put a little love into my lonely soul."

There was a buzzing sensation in my lips. They burned as if they'd been filled with dozens of bees. It crept up to my hairline and down to my toes. My father used to say it was the beauty-itch, a crawling sensation all throughout the body induced by witnessing something magnificent.

That's what he used to say.

"The sun is gonna save me;
Put a little love into my lonely soul."

"Saoirse? Aye, are yew okay?"

I was paralyzed in my own body. I slumped over on the bench, breathing in the smell of mildew lingering in the wood seat.

"... Saoirse?"

"They did awful things to me, Stuart."

I'd never called him that before.

"Who did?"

His obsidian eyes glinted with curiosity. Beneath that, there was something else. It was an emotion much more sinister. It was one that had no business on such an innocent face. It unsettled me.

I regretted having said anything. It was too late. The hurt poured out of me, enveloping everything as seamlessly as the fog around us.

"They hurt me so badly."

I tried to sit up straight. I failed. My head dropped between my knees. I started to cry.

The boat swayed as 2D joined me on the bench where I sat. He placed an arm around me carefully. It was as if he feared I would shatter beneath his touch.

"S'alrigh'. Tell me wha' happened."

"I don't know," I wheezed.

I didn't want to continue the conversation. I wanted to forget.

The silence stretched on for an eternity unbroken. 2D, understanding as much as he could, released a sigh. His hold around me tightened.

"Nobody's gonna do anyfink to yew anymo'. Yew're safe wifth me. I'll protect yew. I promise."

His face was stern. It worried me to see him that way. Even so, the serious contortion of his childlike features begged that I put my trust in him. I did.

I crumpled into a mess in his arms. He ran his fingers through my hair, his patience warming me. The steady rise and fall of his chest calmed my overwrought mind. The adoration in his eyes when he looked at me made me feel at home.

"2D," I said, my voice a whimper, "Thank you."

"S'okay. I'm here fo' yew, wheneva yew need me."

"I... It's been a lifetime since I felt something. Really, really felt something, you know? It's just... You. The way you are. You make me feel something again."

His lips parted in surprise. He smiled sweetly, the same way he did whenever he was all keyed up. I had come to adore that smile. It may have been a dentist's nightmare, but to me it was perfect.

I lit a cigarette, puffing it a few times and passing it off to him. It was soggy. I didn't care.

The fog had become so thick that it drowned out any hint of the shore or dock. We huddled close together inside of the comforter, surrounded by the lucid reminder of our own insignificance. We reveled in it.

As the cigarette burned to the filter and the smoke was swept away, so too were my fears.

We paddled back to shore.

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