Chapter Text
One last thunk echoed from the trunk as you finally hauled out the last box. The apartment complex stood before you—not exactly the dream it looked like online, but it would do. The plaster was a little cracked, the paint a little faded, but the air was fresh and the mountains in the distance were beautiful.
You leaned against the car, taking it in. The reality of everything was still sinking in. A new town. A new life. No turning back now.
“Hellooo, Earth to Y/N.”
You blinked, pulled from your thoughts by your sister’s voice. Ally stood in front of you, one eyebrow raised, slowly waving a hand in front of your face like she was trying to swat a fly made of existential dread.
“Sorry, Ally,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m still in shock, I guess. Thank you for coming all this way with me—and for helping me.”
She gave you a half-hug, the cardboard box in her arms creaking slightly between you.
“You’re welcome,” she said, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “You can really thank me by taking me out to dinner tonight before my flight in the morning.”
You rolled your eyes and chuckled, locking the car. “Of course I’ll take you to dinner. But honestly, there doesn’t seem to be much to choose from besides that diner we saw on the way in.”
“Fuck it,” she said with a shrug, brushing a piece of hair out of her face with her wrist. “It’s the last meal I’ll have with you for a while. Doesn’t matter where we eat, as long as we get something in our stomachs before your furniture shows up and we have to pretend we know how to assemble it.”
She slung an arm over your shoulder, and together you turned to face your new apartment—small, a little beat-up, but full of possibility.
“You’re really gonna move out here, huh?” she asked quietly.
You hesitated, guilt creeping in around the edges. “I have to,” you said. “I need at least a year. Maybe more. I’m not sure if it’s permanent yet.We’ve lived in North Carolina our whole lives. Rarely anything good’s come out of it. I just… I want to be away from all of it.”
Ally shifted her weight, adjusting the box in her arms. Her lips pressed into a thin line, listening.
“I’m sorry I’m leaving you. I know you’re not ready to move yet, and that sucks. And since you’re not ready that means I’ve gotta do this alone. I need to figure out what I want. Even if it means a few months of mind-numbing work and living off library Wi-Fi until I maybe start school again… I think the fresh air and change of scenery will do some good, especially for my psyche .” You glanced over at her. “Mainly after dealing with Mom for so long.”
Ally let out a long breath, rolling her eyes. She crossed her arms, box balanced against her hip. “If you wanted to get away from her that bad, you didn’t have to move to the opposite side of the country, you know? You could’ve just moved like an hour away or something.”
Her voice wavered slightly. “I’m going to miss you. How am I supposed to live without you being just twenty minutes away?”
You looked down at the pavement, heart aching. “Ally… you can’t expect me to be happy staying put. I love her. She’s our mom—but she’s insufferable. Narcissistic. Every other week it’s some pity party, or she’s asking for money, or trying to guilt-trip us into a three-hour conversation about how we’re ungrateful and she’s the real victim. I can’t live like that anymore.”
You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “If I ever move back, it’ll be at least an hour away. That’s the best I can do.”
Ally’s gaze softened. She looked at you—really looked at you—and for a moment, her strong front cracked.
“You’re right,” she said finally. Her voice was quiet. “I’m happy for you. Really. You’re getting out and actually enjoying life for once. You did all of this on your own. Didn’t ask for help with moving costs, didn’t ask anyone to set things up for you. And I know she won’t say it, but… I’m proud of you.”
Your eyes welled up, and you quickly wiped at them with the sleeve of your hoodie.
“Alright,” you said, voice trembling but steady. “We can’t stand out here all day waiting for the movers. We need food. The best I can offer tonight is diner food. You okay with that?”
Ally blinked a few times, fighting back her own tears. Then she gave a watery smile, nodded, and nudged your shoulder.
“Only if there’s pie,” she said, already making her way to the sidewalk beside you.
Lazy Susan sets the check down with a warm smile
“Here you go, darlins’. And hey—just so you know, we’ve got our monthly karaoke night here at Greasy’s coming up soon. It’s always a good time. Last one ended with a standing ovation and a pie fight. Not in that order.”
Ally laughs.
“Aw, that sounds amazing! But I’ll be gone by then—I’m just here helping Y/N get settled.”
You chuckle “Yeah, she’s ditching me before the chaos starts.”
Ally smiled, “Hey, I’d love to see it, but if I stayed any longer I’d probably end up living here too. This town is dangerously charming.”
Lazy Susan chuckled “Well, you’ll just have to come visit again for the next karaoke night. And as for you—” Susan looks at you with an expecting smile.
“—you’ve got no excuse, sweetheart. We expect big things from the new local.”
“Oh no. I didn’t even unpack my dignity yet.”
Lazy Susan winks “Perfect. You won’t need it.” She leans in just a little hoping to reassure you.
“There’s only a couple kids in town your age, but come on down anyway, sugar. If you don’t know a friendly face by then, come find me—I’ll be working the bar that night, okay?”
You give her a soft smile. “Thank you, I appreciate that. I’ll be the one hiding under the table.”
Lazy Susan rolls her eyes playfully. “You’ll do fine! I expect at least one song out of you! It can be overwhelming and a little isolating to move to a new place by yourself. And I mean it Ally, the next time you’re back in town stop by for a visit!”
”I promise I won’t forget.”Ally smiles
The bell jingled as they stepped out into the cooling air, leftovers in hand and made your way back to your apartment.
After wrangling your bed, sectional, and TV stand into place, you thanked the movers with a tired smile and tipped them with what little cash you had left. They gave a friendly wave before driving off, leaving you and Ally alone in the soft hum of your new apartment. She’d be flying out in the morning, but for now, the two of you could finally breathe. A job hunt loomed on the horizon—you made a mental note to grab a newspaper tomorrow and dig through the help wanted ads like buried treasure. Stepping into the tiny kitchen, you crossed your fingers and lifted the sink handle. To your relief, water sputtered to life. You exhaled, grateful, and let the thought of a hot shower, a bit of sisterly downtime, and a full night’s sleep be your final reward for surviving a cross-country drive and the chaos of moving day.
With many tears, hugs, and promises to keep in touch, Ally was getting ready to board her plane back home. You knew there was a good chance she’d be back—maybe for a week, maybe claiming she was moving in—only to get cold feet and return home. For now, you hugged her a little tighter, told her to give the family your love, and watched her disappear into the crowd of travelers on the plane.
As soon as she turned her back, you headed into town and picked up a newspaper. The plan had always been to figure things out once you got here—but after replacing a tire twice on the drive and watching your savings shrink, reality hit fast. You had maybe a month’s worth of cash left for bills, which meant it was time to find a job. Fast.
Back at the apartment, you sat at the counter, chewing on the end of a marker as you scanned the classifieds. There were options… sort of.
Convenience store? No.
Grocery store? Eh.
Gas station? Definitely not.
Greasy’s? God, no.
Not that any of those were bad jobs—they just weren’t what you hoped for. The idea of small talk all day, forgetting orders under pressure, or dealing with awkward customer encounters already had your stomach tightening.
Still… the grocery store might not be the worst idea. You’d probably get a discount. That could help. Hopefully.
A week had passed, and you put in your application everywhere you could think of and everywhere you saw listed in the paper except for one place, the Mystery Shack. Not because you didn’t want a job, but because of all the things you’d heard people say about the owner of said Mystery Shack in your small travels around town the past few days.
Apparently, he was a liar, a con artist, a cheapskate, a tourist-trap-owning crook. So, that definitely didn’t give a great first impression by word of mouth.
Somehow, the day came quicker than expected, and finally—reluctantly—you decided to head up to the Mystery Shack.