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[indent][color=d3d3d3][sub]It had been a long time since CJ had been on Route 125. Her butt planted on the seat of a old [url=https://www.autoevolution.com/moto/indian-scout-2001.html#aeng_indian-scout-37-2001-1442][color=gray]Indian Scout[/color][/url] she found herself almost back within the shadows of her hometown of Delton, Maine. 

A place she would’ve never guessed she’d ever return to.

Even for a high school reunion.

Her High School experience, well, it wasn’t one she thought about often. Her pent up angst often led to her making fun of others. Her best friend from elementary school? She was dogmeat on the first day of High School. The queer kid who got sent to camp to ‘fix’ his homosexuality? Made it a big joke when he came back; even asked him if praying the gay away worked. The pretentious overachiever? Called her names and insulted her intelligence every chance she got. CJ may have been a short blonde girl, but for some she was a little devil. Didn’t really regret any of it, either.

A sigh leaves her lips as the big ‘Welcome to Delton’ sign greets her in the face. She drives past it.

[color=black][b]“...Delton.”[/b][/color] A mutter, buried underneath the motorcycle’s engine, [color=black][b]“I fucking hate this place.”[/b][/color]

Route 125 eventually turns into Main Street. Every single building she passes feels like a notched memory, one she hasn’t thought about in years. Some of them she doesn’t want to revisit. Most of them, actually. But if she [i]hated[/i] this town so much, why did she fill out the form? Why didn’t she just delete the e-mail and move on in her life? It was a question she could not even answer for herself.

Maybe she just needed to see what happened to [i]her.[/i] If she bet on the right horse. Rub it in. Feel happy for once. 

Despite everything going her way lately that was one thing CJ had trouble with: being happy. She hadn’t been happy since before the 7th Grade.

Sometimes she wished that was not the case.

By the time her motorcycle arrives at her destination, there’s a decent amount of traffic. A few vehicles litter the parking lot and there’s a shuffle to get inside P. Johnson’s. Parking face-forward to the door next to an empty spot she stops for a moment, almost like she was taking in the moment. She cuts the engine, removes her helmet, and stuffs her hand in her jacket’s pockets until she retrieves a lighter from the left and a pair of cigarettes on the right.

She presses her back against the wall, clenching the cigarette in between her teeth before the nicotine all settles in. One foot is bent back, pressing against the exterior wall. The other, on the ground. 

She’s not as short as she was in high school and a lot has changed. She must have looked out of it. With black coats of paint covering her fingernails, a t-shirt of some black metal band underneath her leathers, a christian cross around her neck–but only worn ironically, and faded blue-gray jeans, she doesn’t exactly look the part of a reunion guest. For some reunions were a place to look your best, for CJ… she looks like she doesn't have a care in the world. 

She feels like she’ll go inside when she’s bored of being outside.

Besides, she wants this smoke break.
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[sup][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO[/b][/color]
[url=https://youtu.be/3yqTDkqzRYc][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/588109950006329429/1082586783436525618/image.png[/img][color=a9a9a9]stuck here again — L7[/color][/url][/sup]
[indent][sup][color=d3d3d3]route 125 [color=black]▸[/color] [abbr=parking lot]p. johnson's[/abbr]
interacting with: idk god[/color][/sup][/indent][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/970459343667494932/unknown.png[/img][/center][sub][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sub][/cell][/row][/table]