folklore

exile

I think I've seen this film before

And I didn't like the ending

You're not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

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He hears her laugh.

It's the first sound to hit Lindsey's ears as he exits his car, the tinkle of it flitting through the buzz of conversation. It used to make him smile just to hear it. Now it sets his teeth on edge.

He spies her immediately upon entering the party. Standing there with Don Henley, his spindly arms with her petite body in his grasp, not unlike a spider with its prey. She's got her head tipped back, the creamy white expanse of her neck on display as she lets out a cackle, and Lindsey almost turns right around, gets back in his car and leaves. Until he recognizes that it's her fake laugh. Not many people can tell the difference; she's very good at what she does.

But he can.

It doesn't matter, of course. She's made her choice, had made it about five minutes after breaking up with him, and she hasn't looked back once. She'd packed them up, all seven years of them, as if into a suitcase, and put it away where she could never find it again. Like an old moth-eaten sweater.

She finally looks at him, and Lindsey burns inside with all that he sees and yet can't say. He doesn't know what to do with all the love he still has within him. He turns away and heads to the bar.

_____________________________

He's here.

Stevie can feel him the second he walks into the room. Just like always.

And if she grips Don's shoulder a little too tightly, if she lets her laugh sound a little too loudly, then it must just be a coincidence.

She knows what her ex must look like in this moment, though she refuses to give him the satisfaction of turning to see. He's probably standing there with his fists clenched, jaw tight, a scowl on that beautiful face, looking like he wants to punch Don's lights out. Part of her enjoys the fact that she can still cause that reaction.

Stevie can feel Lindsey's stare burning into her, but still she keeps her focus on Don. On his dark brown curls, the eyes that aren't quite the right shade of blue. If she's honest with herself, she knows he doesn't hold a candle to Lindsey. But for right now, he's what she needs. She'd tried with Lindsey. She really had. But how many times can they try when it seems like their relationship had become a barely balanced house of cards, ready to come tumbling down with the slightest of breezes?

She can't resist the urge to sneak a peek at Lindsey. When she turns her head, her eyes meet his across the room. And although he tries to hide it, although he tears his gaze away from hers the second she catches his stare, the utter sadness buried deep in Lindsey's eyes is too much for her to take.

She turns away and back into Don's arms.

_____________________________

A whiskey. Another. A third. Make it a double.

Lindsey drinks the cocktails down, one after another, without even tasting them. He needs to be numb tonight.

He can't believe that he's spending this night here at Keith's house, in the very place he and Stevie had started their Los Angeles journey. He wonders - if he saw those two young kids, sharing a tiny guest room filled with their every worldly possession, ready to live on nothing else but their talent and their love for one another, would he even recognize them?