this is my first Widow's Bay fanfiction! I felt like I needed to avoid everything until I'd finished the whole show, and I'm so glad, because it was amazing seeing it without spoilers. it took my fam about 2 ish weeks to finish, but I don't think I was properly hooked until episode 4 or 5. I'm obsessed with patricia.
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Evan slammed his front door closed, and winced as his frustration rattled the door frame. To his left, the strip of key hooks wobbled precariously for half a minute before falling to the floor. He cursed quietly.
Then paused, waiting for footsteps in some corner of the house, and his dad coming to shout at him for destroying the house, but all he heard was the house settling. Thank God.
Something in his chest relaxed. The last thing he wanted was to talk to his dad right then. After last night, dragging him out of the car in front of Kelly and PJ, and ignoring him while he was trying to have a real conversation. Not to mention, all while, for the first time in ever, looking like a complete mess.
Evan cursed a little bit louder.
Fuck, the one time he’d decided to lose the stupid tie, which Evan always thought made him look like an asshole. He frowned, remembering his dad’s stained shirt. Did he go out drinking or something? The possibility made him angrier, that his dad was so pissed about him having a good night for once while he was off drinking with his friends. It was so unfair that Evan wanted to hit something. Better yet, ruin something his dad cared about just like he’d done to Evan.
He took one mindless step towards his dad’s home office, but then stopped himself. What was he gonna do, put a few papers through the shredder? Maybe ruin someone else’s work instead. No. That was petty, even for him.
He sighed and settled for kicking his dad’s briefcase propped against the coffee table. Hard. It wilted over sort of sadly.
Evan stared at it for a minute, then shook his head.
He’d figure something out later.
Right now, his phone was about to die. He gave the briefcase one last halfhearted kick, which sent it right into the wall, then kicked off his shoes and crossed to the staircase. It creaked loudly with each step. It made the house feel oddly still and empty in comparison. Like he was intruding on his own life.
When he reached the landing, he flicked on the lights, and made to fling open his bedroom door, but something made him pause. His dad’s door was still closed. Evan frowned.
When he’d snuck out early that morning it was closed from the night before. He assumed then that his dad was just still asleep. But he wouldn’t still be asleep at noon, even on a Sunday. He was anal about his “mayoral duties”.
Unless, maybe, he was hungover. There, that was something. Evan would go steal his dad’s phone charger and “accidentally” wake him up. Maybe even hide the aspirin so he’d have to go into town to buy more.
He grasped the handle, shoved the door open, and was hit hard with the smell of vomit. He recoiled.
“Ew, what the hell?” His stomach twisted uncomfortably. Trying to swallow back a gag, he fumbled to pull his t-shirt up over his mouth and nose. The door bounced off the wall and slowly drifted shut again. Evan caught it before it could close all the way and pushed it back open. “Dad?”
His dad’s bed was empty.
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