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[indent][color=d3d3d3][sub][i]Why did I listen to my therapist?[/i]

Lucas Watson winced in his seat at the sight of the 'Welcome to Delton' sign, surrounded by trimmed shrubs and vibrant flowers. He looked away from the bus window and focused on his phone, trying to suppress unpleasant memories of his upbringing in this miserable small town. The sweet jazz playing through his cheap gas station earphones somewhat kept the thoughts from sneaking up. But, of course, it got worse once the Greyhound bus arrived at Samuell Wells Rest, the bus station on the edge of town. He immediately began recalling that painful day, from the argument with his parents to his abrupt departure on a bus headed for Boston. Lucas made sure the volume for his music was increased to the max.

With nothing more than a travel bag sufficed for a straightforward weekend stay, Lucas intended to confirm his reservation at the most affordable hotel in town. That was until he saw a brochure for P. Johnson's on a leaflet display stand. It was pleasantly surprising to find that the brewpub was not only still in business, but also apparently thriving. Their seasoned breadsticks served with a side of dipping sauce was the best thing to come from Delton. Lucas took the brochure, skimmed the menu for new additions, and then decided to stop there for a quick snack. He told himself there was still plenty of time before the cut-off for check-in time at the hotel.

After walking for about ten minutes from the bus station, the parking lot was almost full, with several vehicles and a motorcycle parked there. Lucas watched from a distance as townsfolk began making their way inside, an indication that the atmosphere was about to get energized very soon. That made him wonder if he was about to see any familiar faces inside. Or who, if any, would recognize him. Five years had passed, after all. And that made him think about his parents. Were they still living along the coastline? Did they still visit town regularly? What about that damned church? Have they changed in five years? Sadly, Lucas had already known the answers.

He needed a smoke, and thankfully someone had a lighter.

Lucas made his way over toward the blonde woman, pulling out a cigarette from his cotton jacket. Too distracted with his thoughts to have a closer look at her. [color=black][b]"May I borrow a light?"[/b][/color] he asked while leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand.[/sub][/color][/indent]
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[sup][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO[/b][/color]
[url=https://youtu.be/EM1t8H_PE78][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/588109950006329429/1082586783436525618/image.png[/img][color=a9a9a9]scott street — phoebe bridgers[/color][/url][/sup]
[indent][sup][color=d3d3d3]samuell wells stop[color=black]▸[/color] p. johnson's [parking lot]
interacting with: cj markowitz/[@TGM][/color][/sup][/indent][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/970459343667494932/unknown.png[/img][/center][sub][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sub][/cell][/row][/table]