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thejarleyfic · 4 years
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finding home. 3/?.
who: Marley Rose, Jake Puckerman, feat. Kitty Wilde
when: days after chapter 1
where: lima, ohio
what: Marley was invisible in school, always pining for one boy's attention. Ten years later, she's a pop star that's found hiding out in her hometown. Jake had everything in high school, but is now the burnt-out owner of a run-down bar in the town he could never escape. Their paths cross once again, two people trying to find home.
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The alarm was what broke the silence in her room. It was the light shining in from the window that woke her up over an hour before.
It was the old alarm she used in high school, it always gave of the worst screeching that could wake her up from even the deepest dreams. With how she tossed and turned throughout the night, it was overboard by a mile. Her mind was used to the softer tone her phone gave off every morning, but digging it out of her luggage, turning it on, and rummaging through the dozens of missed calls she likely had wasn't worth it at this point.
Instead, while waiting for the screech of the clock by her bedside, she looked. Truly looked, her eyes darting around the room she was still adjusting to. Her sheets and comforter still smelled like fabric softener, Marley knowing that her mom must've washed the set in a hurry after the night she came back. Some photos were still thumb-tacked to the wall, despite all the years that passed. There were also a few artifacts from her high school years still in their spots, bags and books and piles of cheap jewelry on the worn oak dresser. Her mom never did repaint the walls from the mint color she chose in high school.
In fact, the only sign that this wasn't some sort of shrine from almost a decade ago were the boxes of yarn and fabric her mom was storing at the foot of her bed. Even then, her mom promised to move those to the garage once some other boxes were rearranged. It was bound to be difficult, since the Jeep Marley drove halfway across the country was still hiding behind that metal door.
Three more seconds of the alarm, then Marley finally lifted a weak arm to press the button on the side of the clock.
Being home was both easy and not. Even as Marley adjusted her pajamas, tried to tame her hair into a ponytail, and tried to wake up before heading to the kitchen, there was still the discomfort of everything that happened over the past week and a half.
The thoughts were shoved to the back of her mind.
Marley bounced down the stairs, one of the motions that was still locked in her muscle memory. The smell of breakfast hit her before the last step did.
"Mom?"
Turning into the kitchen, a plate of food was already sitting at the table for her. Her mom was already finishing another batch of eggs for herself by the stove, it was clear that her mom had been up for a while and anticipated Marley's alarm.
"I made your favorite," Millie chirped, pointing a spatula at the plate. Scrambled eggs and sausage, the same thing her mom made almost every morning before school. "You were asleep for a while so it might need warmed up."
Marley was already using her fork to stab some eggs, avoiding the yellow by habit, and putting them to her mouth. Her mom's cooking was better than most anything in Los Angeles, the smile on her mom's face said that she knew that.
Her mom took advantage of the food in her daughter's mouth, probing with one of the few questions that she had been asking since her daughter arrived. "Any updates?"
Marley shrugged, cutting off a small corner of one of the sausage before stabbing it with the fork. Her mom had been trying to gleam any information she could, Marley was maintaining the wall with all her secrets behind it.
The wall gave just enough separation for Marley to forget, usually only for minutes at a time, how unbelievably screwed she was.
Keeping her eyes at her plate, Marley was sure she must've looked like her teenage self with the stubborn avoidance she was giving. Only this time her face was a little more aged and her hair blonde, but those details seemed miniscule to her mom. In that moment, Marley wasn't the glamorous or idyllic idol that everyone else was more familiar with. With the messy hair, no makeup, in the tattered pajamas that she first got in high school; this was the Marley that her mother was the most familiar with.
"I'm not ready yet." It was easy to admit, the only difficult part was going past that statement. "I don't want you to worry about any of it, things haven't been this quiet in a long time."
Marley remembered the reservations she'd have to make her mom for hotels in Columbus, or even as far as Indianapolis, just so nobody searching for photos would stake up outside of their actual home. Even then, any time spent together was never the same as now.
Millie turned off the stove, the sizzling becoming muted. Now it was just silence in the kitchen.
"How long are you going to keep this up?"
It was the question Marley was asking herself too. How long would she make her mom keep all the blinds closed, or hide her car in the garage, or feign ignorance whenever people around town ask questions? Each time she wakes up in Lima, each time she feels a little bit of normal, the reminders of how temporary it all was came back. Was it so much to ask for, for a time where she could feel like the wall of secrets wasn't there?
Marley wished she had spent another few minutes in bed, glancing around the time capsule that was her bedroom. Despite the details of her own appearance, that room seemed to be the only thing that hadn't changed in the past decade.
Marley sighed, defeated as a stone from her wall of secrets fell. She set her fork down with a clatter, Millie taking the cue and realizing the weight on her daughter.
"As long as I can."
----------------------------------------
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
The doting words of her mom bounced in her mind. Her mom was getting enough of an image of the situation to be protective of Marley - or more so protective than usual. Millie knew that her daughter was seeking peace, so going out into town seemed like a ludicrous idea each time Marley brought it up. Millie never tried to stop her, but the worry of what would happen each time her daughter left was the main concern. Not that Millie ever brought it up, but there was always the worry that Marley being discovered would mean she'd have to find another sanctuary somewhere else. It had been so long since she had her daughter home, anything risking that brought on a tidal wave of worry.
It started with Marley driving around the streets. A cap to cover her hair and sunglasses were enough to be discrete. But as her mom became more doting, the more that the pressure inside her little bubble increased, the more of a break Marley needed to keep the charade up. Moments of separation from more than just Los Angeles, but also from her mom.
Marley never put it that way, only telling Millie that she needed "some air".
Soon the drives weren't enough. Marley was pulled to explore the town she hadn't truly experienced in years. Wanting to see the things that changed, the things that hadn't, the facelifts to the infrastructure the city council undoubtedly were attempting. Sometimes it was putting on a big enough hoodie, making sure the hood covered her blonde, and walking through a park on a mild night. She once worked up the courage to buy a drink from one of her favorite gas stations, where an older lady was working and didn't seem to connect the dots enough to recognize her.
It was barely enough.
Now, as Marley was walking down the sidewalks on the attempted downtown district of Lima, there was more than an urge to see - but to blend in. To be immersed. The book store was closed, the window shop completely empty. The only part of town that seemed to have any life was a fluorescent lit storefront. As she approached, she got a better clue.
A bar.
Not one of the Los Angeles bars that she used to frequent, usually for parties or events, always to be seen by photographers. It was empty too, besides some patrons that seemed to be leaving and another person seemingly dozing off in the corner.
As lively as Lima gets, Marley thought with an ounce of curiosity. Maybe one drink?
None of the people in the room seemed to fit the profile of someone that'd recognize her. All either too old or too drunk. The bar back was turned around, starting to wrap up a shift as it seemed.
Curiosity was always her weakness. Marley pulled the door open, just enough to fit her body through. The other hand ensured her hood was adjusted to cover a good portion of her face and figure.
A single drink, then back home before mom worries.
The last few exchanges between the last bar patrons and the bartender were the only things she heard as she found a seat further down. It was a slight jab at one of the men, a joke about how high his tab seemed to be. Funny, it gave Marley one of the few earnest smiles she's had since getting to town.
The group of men walked past her, glances at her face before they passed by without any raised eyebrows. A good sign, with the smell of beer coming off of them providing an even better sign.
At the mention of a last call, Marley's mind became a blank slate. The hole-in-the-wall aura of this place didn't fit with any of the cocktails she usually got in LA, and she was sure any attempt at ordering something of that caliber would make her more suspicious than a random face.
A few stammering words, then the most vague request possible came out of her mouth - just as she had her own realization. Looking up at the bartender, hoping for help as to what would be easiest to order, instead seeing a face she'd almost forgotten about years ago. Just as worn as her face was, still as cynical as her memory recalled, dressed in a tattered tee that made him look the right kind of rough.
And by the look on his face, he was seeing a ghost from high-school past too.
Jake.
"A beer?" Were the only words she remembered saying.
But there was only silence now, seemingly brief but also heavy enough to know they both felt it.
So much for being inconspicuous.
"What kind of beer?" He was the first to break the silence, she felt a wave of relief as he ignored the obvious.
Marley used a hand to pull her hoodie slightly away, enough to give Jake a polite gesture but hide the back of her head for anyone passing by. At the sound of last call, the other patron in the back was also gathering to leave - yet she couldn't look away to check.
Why was her face feeling so warm?
"You pick, I don't really know too many."
Jake paused, but ultimately nodded before reaching around to grab a bottle from the fridge. Something with a plain label on the bottle, surely she saw commercials of this brand before. He did her the favor of opening the lid for her in a swift motion. He set it in front of her, Marley nervously reaching in front of her to take the bottle and take a sip.
It wasn't the best, somewhat stale tasting and too close to the smell of leather, but she didn't seem to care. The cool glass to her lips was enough to know that yes, her face was strangely warm.
Jake paused in front of her. For all the memories that were left of him, most of which fragmented and came in flashes, none of them helped her realize how nervous he seemed back. Most of her memories were the opposite, a Jake that always knew what to say and never seemed to be touched by discomfort. It was different now, Jake not looking toward her and nervously arranging glasses behind the bartop. His jaw was clenched but in the moment he did briefly glance up, his eyes seemed to look at her with unspoken questions rather than bravado.
For a moment, Marley wished she had checked herself in the car mirror before entering. Not that either of them were entering a beauty contest at this point, but for the first time in a decade kind of impression - this must rank pretty low.
The other voice in her head wondered why she even cared, considering she hadn't left an initial impression those years ago in the first place. The voice questioned why her nerves felt like they were electric.
Jake spoke again, offering Marley a lifeboat in terms of conversation.
"You missed the five year reunion. Kitty was pissed."
For the first time in weeks, potentially months, Marley truly laughed.
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thejarleyfic · 4 years
Text
finding home. 2/?.
who: Marley Rose, Jake Puckerman, feat. Kitty Wilde
when: days after chapter 1
where: lima, ohio
what: Marley was invisible in school, always pining for one boy's attention. Ten years later, she's a pop star that's found hiding out in her hometown. Jake had everything in high school, but is now the burnt-out owner of a run-down bar in the town he could never escape. Their paths cross once again, two people trying to find home.
fanfiction.com link
It was easy to assume seeing Marley was some sort of fever dream. The person he least expected to appear again, middle of the night, no explanation. It was what Jake continued to tell himself as the pattern of his life set back in again. Closing the bar, heading up the stairs to the studio upstairs, finding some way to distract himself the rest of the night before sleeping the rest of the hours away. Distraction after distraction, just that one moment of genuine surprise that seemed to throw off the course.
Even the next morning, almost the afternoon by the time Jake got on his feet, there was still the same ache in his spine from the cheap spring mattress. Another checked box of his daily routine.
A look over his shoulder, the blonde on the other side of the bed was pulling a sweatshirt over her shoulders and down her body. Just as familiar a sight as the rest of it.
Even years after high school, Kitty still pretended like her late-night visits to his bed were a part of some grand scheme of control. Her high school habits were the hardest to shake off, but over the years her manipulation and attempts to rule everyone around her shifted towards general pessimism - not to say that Jake couldn't sympathize with it. Once expectations and pride were stripped away, Kitty needed as much distraction as anyone else recently.
"Think you can text me earlier next time? One of us actually has things to do in the morning, and pretending to be well rested isn't one of my strong suits."
"Nobody's making you respond." Jake didn't look back at her, but the glare she shot towards him as she pulled her underwear over her legs was sharp enough to feel. Jake pulled his jeans from the night before off the floor.
"You'd get too close to a sad puppy commercial if I didn't come see you."
"Remind me to thank you later."
Kitty raised an eyebrow. This was more of a fight than he usually put up with her - Jake chalked it up to the soft pounding in his head from the few drinks the night before, and the fact that Kitty was still there when he was waking up.
She didn't even have to ask, just the beat of silence was enough of a question.
Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"What are you still doing here, anyways?" He hoped the question came across as icy as he meant it.
Kitty shrugged a shoulder, sitting on the opposite side of the bed without a rush to finish getting dressed. Usually she was quick out the door, barely a word before she slipped out the door to a meeting or an open house. Leave it to Kitty to find a job that put her face on half the benches in town, Jake thought wryly. Instead, she was taking her time - getting comfortable.
"I was hoping you'd tell me more about the ghost of pop-star past." What Kitty never understood about herself was that her tell was easy to spot - courtesy. Subtlety must've been a lost skill to her in recent years.
Jake peered over again, her eyes were amused and her smile knowing. She had pulled a knee to her chest to appear nonchalant, but Jake knew her better than this. Whatever she was thinking, she was enjoying it.
"You know something?"
Kitty shrugged again, a small pout on her lip. This game was better played years ago.
"I know you know." He pressed, seeing her bluff for what it was. "You still read all those tabloids all the time, right?"
Kitty leaned back onto the pillows, looking towards the ceiling with her typical enjoyment. Her foot was tapping a rhythm, slow and calculated.
"There's been some theories bouncing around. Seems our old friend hasn't been out-and-about in L.A. recently, some whispers about something that happened, being pissed at some boyfriend or producer or something, the usual conspiracies."
Jake didn't budge his facial expression.
"Maybe some questions on whether she's in L.A. at all. Nobody has seen her mom around town either in the past week or two. And suddenly - some bartender that can't text before 3AM sees a suspicious blonde that looks a lot like her." Her eyes eased over, studying his expression now. "Just interesting is all, just like this town is going to be once word gets out that she's here."
Jake only stared, Kitty's smile grew.
"All I'm saying is," Kitty feigned sincerity, "Since I know business has been slow for you, you may want to hold out for some out-of-town folk heading here soon. Maybe like the paparazzi camping outside her place in L.A., I'm sure they'd love to be the first to find out what happened."
"You're lying,"
Kitty tilted her head, "You know me better than that. Don't you think I'm a little excited for some adrenaline around here too?"
Kitty's planted seed did it's job quickly. The following days had Jake going through the motions, opening the bar, working, closing, sleep, repeat. Cleaning up the messes from customers, sneaking a few beers himself at the end of the night, avoiding any thoughts about profits for the month.
Still, Jake studied the people walking by the front window a little longer. He listened a little closer to the gossip of his regulars. Each night when he locked the door, he took a few moments to gaze across the street. He wasn't sure what he was hoping for; to see her or to see no one. It was always the latter, the same faces passing as always. If it wasn't for his sudden bout of paranoia, there would be nothing different about the recently passed days compared to the previous days, weeks, or months.
Still, why was he hoping for something different?
"Put it on my tab, Jake?" He heard someone call, realizing it was Linny. A regular.
Jake set the few glasses down by the sink, the last stragglers were in the bar and the process of working them out the door was set to start. Never fun, could usually provide some entertainment.
"Your tab is about the size of my rent, Lin." Jake tried not to look up.
"C'mon Ja-"
"You know the rules, end of the month means you close your tab."
Linny hesitated with a roll of his eyes.
"Your wife's a nurse right? Want me to explain to her why I ended up in her ER for starvation, 'cause you rack up a tab the size of a bank account?"
Linny chuckled, threw down a few bills of cash and made a few off handed comments about his wife. Nothing that Jake paid too much attention to, especially as Linny and his pals started to wrap up their drinks.
"Ten minutes until last call, in case you want anything else." Jake reminded them, setting a coaster down on a new customer he didn't see come in. Another person that didn't check the time before heading out to a bar.
Should be the last one of the day, he reminded himself. Then a few hours of quiet.
"Can I just get - a beer?"
Jake turned and met her eyes, the voice a combination of familiar and new. She looked as uncomfortable as Jake looked surprised, peering over her shoulder to the last few people sitting at their tables. Nobody was paying much mind to her, not glancing her way. Except for Jake, now unable to see anyone but her.
Marley.
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thejarleyfic · 4 years
Text
finding home. 1/?.
who: Marley Rose, Jake Puckerman
when: ten years apart
where: lima, ohio
what: Marley was invisible in school, always pining for one boy's attention. Ten years later, she's a pop star that's found hiding out in her hometown. Jake had everything in high school, but is now the burnt-out owner of a run-down bar in the town he could never escape. Their paths cross once again, two people trying to find home.
fanfiction.com link
One more week. 
Her mom had texted her during English class to remind her, but truth be the told the thought hadn’t left her head since the day started. Nobody was seeing her preoccupation, only the occasional nudge from the teacher to feign attention to the last few lesson plans before graduation. 
One more week.
The rest of the class shuffled out of the classroom as the bell finished ringing, the volume of the chatter drawing out the last few pages of homework that Ms. Johnston was in the middle of assigning. A class full of seniors weren’t planning on making the last few days of their high school career count, especially as everybody was swapping details about the end-of-the-year parties and summer plans before heading to college. Anybody with even the slightest excitement planned for the next few weeks way far past paying attention to the last assignments of the year.
With a few more scribbles of the last pages, Marley slid the yellow notebook into her bag and stood to slip into the hallway. It was a long trek across the school to get to geology, going through the back hallways avoided the groups of seniors and juniors that blocked entire pathways with their groups. Attempting to go around them had her bag knocked off her shoulder on more than one occasion.
“Wait--” Marley froze, one foot out the classroom door as she glanced to Mrs. Johnston, an older woman that had been at McKinley since her mother was a teenager. There were only a few times that they had interacted before, usually when a volunteer was picked to answer a question about the previous reading. There was still a taste of bitterness each time Marley thought about the fact that she never raised her hand, but she swallowed the feeling in change for the small pleasantry. “It was good to have you in class this year. I wish I would’ve heard from you more.”
A small shoulder shrug, nearly impossible to see under the long, brunette hair hiding the sides of her face and frame. There was nothing to say except the excuses she gave to every teacher that made the same comment, except this time there wasn’t another opportunity next year.
“Any thoughts after graduation?”
A small beat, then the reluctant response.
“I have a cousin out in California, she offered me to stay with her out there while I take a few classes.”
“I’m quite serious. You have some good things going for you, Mary.”
Marley was out the door before the sting revealed itself on her face, biting the inside of her cheek as she navigated the hallway. 
A few corner turns, and she was in the service hallway. Long, closets and empty rooms lining the sides. The lonesome entrance for the maintenance workers, the only one wide enough to fit some of the machinery in. The volume of the more popular hallways was still heard in echos, but it was the most silence she was going to get until the school cleared completely of students later in the day.
It was a few brief moments of solitude, a break from the noise constantly swirling around her head. Peace.
She hadn’t even noticed her eyes closed, her steps slowing to a slow shuffle as the few minutes she had alone ticked away. They only opened with a new sound, a sharp scraping across the tile. A flash of black, and a familiar face sped around the corner with careless speed.
Jake.
Back in their freshman year, he was riding the same scooter down the halls and nearly knocked her head against the wall. It was only a surprising moment of grace that saved her from a trip to the nurse, but it left an impression. A few more near-misses of interaction, a few shared classes where they didn’t say a word. It was stupid that she let herself feel the way she did, it was even more stupid that she never acted on it in the years they had spent in proximity. 
Mom’s voice was in her head, the same advice that was given hours after her first run in with the mysterious boy from the hallways. The same advice that was readily given each and every time Marley complained about her desire to talk with him ever since then.
It was only now that Marley realized that saying now or never wasn’t the same as feeling now or never. Now that the time to act was truly running out, the words couldn’t be restrained. Even if she had tried to hold it back, her lips were moving far before her mind had caught up.
“You’re Jake, right?” Her sudden confidence was too late, her words drowned as he streaked past her. 
No hesitation, no pause. Not even a turn around. A few moments later, and he turned down another hallway. Towards the biology and chemistry rooms, probably heading towards the one exit that the school always forgot to alarm.
“Good things going for me.” She muttered under her breath, another sting in her chest with the reminder repeating in her head. 
He didn’t even look at you, he didn’t even look at you.
--------------------------------------
“One more, Jake.”
The last straggler, Greg. He had a spot at the bar since the first shift at the factory had let out, racking up drink order after drink order. Only bits and pieces of his sob story had spilled out throughout the night, more than enough for Jake to know that the tab wouldn’t be paid off tonight. Last call had been thirty minutes ago, the rest of the patrons had left to carry on at their own houses and let him close in peace.  
“No,” It was a simple enough answer, and probably the expected answer since Grad had pulled this stint a handful of times since Jake took ownership of the bar a few years ago. Whatever confidence the liquid courage granted him, it was enough for him to try his luck again.
“C’mon,” The man slumped back in the chair, obviously not realizing the glazed look in his eye giving away his true state. The half-on tie didn’t help either, on the whole it was almost like watching a used car salesman that got dropped in a washer. Sad, pathetic, but a small part of him wanted to laugh. “You tellin’ me you have something going on the rest of the night?”
A single push of his palm pressed the cash drawer into the machine, the mechanical latch grinding into place. Likely going to need replaced in the next few years, not immediate enough to happen during the upcoming fiscal cycle. He was still in the red from the past few months of stagnant patrons, no reason to push the non-emergent. It was still a useful enough tactic to break any train of thought coming out of drunk patrons, especially once they started comparing lives to his.
“Keys.” Jake didn’t glance over, instead moving his hands to fastening the rest of the bottle stoppers. A few beats of silence, and he did meet Greg with a knowing look. His face white, the red flush from the beer disappeared. It was a quick way to get people out of the building, even if they had to walk. “You got a place nearby to sober up?”
A groan. “Yeah, Mike’s staying late in the shop.”
“Guess you better get going, that’s a block and a half away.” It was almost satisfying getting an eyeroll in response. The customer service aspect of bars usually took this route. “Keys.” A small reminder, met with the sound of metal hitting the bartop. 
“You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?”
“A son of a bitch that’ll let you shift some money around so your wife doesn’t find out how much you’ve spent here tonight.” That did the trick, well enough for a chuckle to come out of the poor man. “You have a week, I mean it.”
“Sure, sure.” He stood up from the bar stools, confirming Jake’s suspicion to take the keys away early. A few steps, nodding along to the promises to pay the tab off in full. Another promise to pay extra, a couple of empty notions that would be forgotten by the morning. It was all heard before, the same routine each time.
“You know,” Greg’s face was serious this time, probably some other attempt at coming up with a grand gesture of appreciation. It looked like he was sending a probe deep into his mind, obviously coming back empty. The uncomfortably long beat ended with the hint of a smirk, stench of Jack hitting Jake’s face like a wall. “Maybe you’ll have a missus one day, then I’ll repay the favor.”
The clenched jaw in response was a well enough warning, with Greg slipping out the door before fully finishing the sentence. Jake watched from the glass door front as Greg took a few stumbling steps down the block, quickly passing the dark alleyways and disappearing from view.
“Asshole.”
The rest of the street was quiet, at least from the view of the front door, an occasional car passing by and the hum of the heating unit out back. A quiet night that was common enough for the line between calming and purgatory was blurred. Tens of thousands of dollars spent turning the downtown streets into the city’s attempt of an entertainment hub. The replaced streetlights and sidewalk didn’t change the core of Lima’s marketing problem: nobody past the age of twelve ever wanted to stay. Those that did were disenchanted with the idea of pretending, leaving the streets dead.
The minute most people turned eighteen, they followed the closest college acceptance letter out of the state. One by one, until all that was left were the warm bodies keeping the basic infrastructure of the town alive. That’s where he came in; someone had to give the poor suckers in town a place to escape home.
Get a grip. The thoughts were shaken off, left on the floor to be swept up later. 
One hand reached up to turn the deadbolt of the door, latching it as the other hand reached for the switch to the outdoor sign. The same motion he did on every closing shift, but with one glance out the window his eyes froze on a sight across the street. A flash of blonde, meant to be hidden under a grey hoodie. A face he hadn’t seen in almost a decade.
That was a lie, but barely. It was a face he saw constantly, almost to the point of being sick of it. She always looked different than she did in high school, she changed her hair and it was on the front page of a magazine. Internet articles were the first to start popping up, the occasional editorial by the local newspaper whenever they caught wind of the girl from Lima living in Los Angeles. Then the music found it’s way over here, and the town may have well caught on fire. Everybody was seeing her photos at award shows, photo shoots, concerts. It took over a year before he listened to anything himself, and he had run out of excuses to avoid it six months before that. All the articles about multi-platinum albums, Billboard singles, awards with the qualifier of “youngest ever” before them. She was kind of a legend around here, the girl that got out. Not only that, she was the girl that got out and made it. 
Marley.
The door couldn’t open fast enough, by the time he felt the outside air on his skin and called out her name again she was already inside her car and starting to leave the parking lot. He still heard it echo back to him, bouncing off the concrete walls with nobody else to hear it.
She was in a hurry, enough of a hurry to nearly run to her car from the late-night convenience store. The last anyone remembered seeing her within Lima city limits was graduation, but now she was here again. In town, in the middle of the night, running from a convenience store in a piss-poor attempt at a disguise. He could see peering over her shoulder as she reversed out of the parking lot, a clearer look at her face. 
“Marley!” He called again, but she put the car in gear and drove down the street. Just like that, the street was once again quiet and frozen. 
She didn’t even turn around. He was alone again, the dark wood of his bar barely lit with the fluorescent lights. Most had given up hope that she’d ever acknowledge her history with the little Ohio town post-graduation, but she was here again. She was here, and she was definitely hiding.
The switch to the outside sign flipped, the buzz of the neon sign died. Why didn’t she turn around?
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thejarleyfic · 4 years
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 -- Is anyone available to beta read a beginning chapter of a Jarley fic that I’m working on? Let me know, I’m looking for any feedback I can get. ♥
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thejarleyfic · 4 years
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