Fics like A Thing About You

Dan Rydell drove to Los Angeles in the summer of 1988. It might have been a questionable idea. It might even, if one were to listen to his father, be a stupid idea. If one were to listen to Jacob Rydell, affectionately known to his intimates as Jay, one might think that blowing that kind of gas money is a waste, when the plane ticket is cheaper and faster, and it’s not like you need to bring much. What do you think you’re doing, having a adventure? This is a job, Danny. Dan did not think about that. The open road, with the sky arching beautifully above him, was a truly magnificent thing. He had his favorite tapes and a working cassette player. He mashed play without looking, and when he hit the end he’d swap it out, Simon le Bon’s voice thready against the roar of the pavement. Twelve hours a day of driving would get him there in under a week. There were parks and motels to sleep in when and if it became necessary. He chain-smoked when he started getting tired, juggling the cigarette lighter with the wheel, and kept going.

Fics like A Thing About You

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