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[/b][/h3][/sup][/color][/row][row][cell][sup][h2][color=black]WILLIAM BISHOP[/color][/h2][/sup]
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[sup][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]act one: way down we go[/b][/color][/sup][indent][sup][color=a9a9a9]Hilton on Route 1 [color=black]▸[/color] p. johnson's[/color][/sup][/indent][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/970459343667494932/unknown.png[/img][/center][sub][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sub][/cell][cell][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/967592442486460476/unknown.png[/img][/center]
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The classic blue car zoomed down the highway, making an unexpectedly quiet sound as it went.  Not the explosive roar of the internal combustion, but the quiet whir of the electric motor.  The inside was a good deal louder, the speakers blaring out a Black Sabbath tune, and the driver singing along in good spirits.  

Billy had set out for Delton four whole days ago; he wanted to drive his own car, so flying wasn’t going to be an option, and he had to make it a road trip.  It was a weird, lonely time for him, but he made the best of it.  His band’s manager had plotted the course for him, to include charging stations for his car and nice hotels to stop at.  This wasn’t, strictly speaking, her job, but Kathy was accommodating as always, and Billy had sent her flowers(using a service, but she didn’t need to know he hadn’t picked them himself). He spent the nights drinking in hotel bars or nearby clubs, schmoozing with fans(and not a few drunk strangers who didn’t know him from Adam), and then in the morning he would grab a huge iced coffee and an unhealthy breakfast sandwich and hit the road without a look back. 

He passed the [b]Welcome to Delton[/b] sign with a weird and unexpected thrill, hands gripping the steering wheel convulsively.  Why the nerves?  Because his parents lived in town, he thought.  Or, they probably still did. Billy didn’t care to see them, and was a little worried he might run into them. 

[color=black][i]It’s not like you’re obligated to talk to them if they turn up,[/i][/color] he reasoned.  [color=black][i]Tell them you've sucked a few dicks and they’ll back away slowly.[/i][/color]  He laughed at how he imagined the looks on their faces, but deep down he knew he would say no such thing.  He would be polite and make his excuses, then go get high.

Not long later, he had pulled into a hotel just outside of Delton, and was waiting on the receptionist to confirm his reservation, looking at his phone and checking the Facebook thread.  It was the first time he had done so since setting out from Seattle, but there was a delightful image of a mysterious drink, with the legend “Be here or be square.” 

Billy smirked and commented below, [color=black]”be here or be [i]squeer[/i]?”[/color], before putting his phone away and apologizing to the receptionist who was waiting on [i]him[/i] now.  Taking the key card with a smile, he made his way to his room and changed for the event.  First he shaved, brushed his teeth, and fussed with his hair.  Next, he put on a pink V-neck, black skinny jeans, and a gray cable knit cardigan.  On his feet were black Doc Marten boots with yellow laces, vintage from back when they were made in England.  He put his round lensed sunglasses in his shirt by the earpiece. 

He stopped on his way out to look at himself in the mirror by the door of his room. Was he nervous? Yeah. What if they thought he was lame? A sellout? It was weird to go back and see these people when he didn’t know if they’d read something stupid about him in a magazine. He took a breath and wrenched his eyes away from analyzing every imperfection in his hair. 

Well, he’d made up his mind anyway. Hell, he didn’t drive all the way to Delton to [i]not[/i] watch his former high school get demolished.

~~~

Billy pushed the door to PJ’s open and walked in. He grinned around at the reunion that had assembled before him as he pulled his sunglasses back off. Freya - he recognized her immediately - was still standing by the door when he walked through. 

[b][color=black]”Hey, Freya! What’s going on?”[/color][/b] he put an arm around her shoulder and stood with her as they looked at everyone else who had congregated, [b][color=black]”Conner? I thought for sure you’d be fat, but you look great! Actually,”[/color][/b] he added, on reflection as he looked around at them, [b][color=black]”You [i]all[/i] look pretty damn good! We drinking yet?”[/color][/b]

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