The truth was that love snuck up on Dave. And to his credit, there was no other way that love would hit him. That life would hit him, really.
His days were long. Tedious. Exhausting. Terrifying. And he wouldn’t trade them for anything.
But those days left very little time for any sort of self reflection. Morning dive. Afternoon dive. Evening either dive or working as a busboy at the sushi shop. Then get 6 hours of sleep before another morning dive.
So of course love snuck up on Dave.
For Bancho, however, it was a very different story.
He moved out so quickly. Whenever Eddie thought about it, that was the one thing that stood out. How quickly Buck packed back up and was out of the house.
Out of their house.
It shouldn’t bother him. Not really, at least. He was glad to be able to move Chris back into the same house that they’d left. Glad to be able to offer him that consistency and support. So, so lucky that it was Buck who’d taken the lease on. Buck who’d said “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can,” once Chim had yelled at Eddie that he belonged there.
Belonged in LA.
Because he did. This was his home. Was Chris’ home. And it felt so good. To be back home. To drive his couch back and expect Buck to ride it for weeks at least before even floating the idea is getting his own place.
Instead, hours after Eddie drove his U-Haul back from Texas Buck was packing the last of his boxes. Saying something about a place closer to Maddie’s and how convenient that would be. Saying something about driving into work with Chim. When he should be driving in with him. In his stupid new car he bought for the Uber gig. Or—better—driving Eddie in. So Eddie could leave his shit car in the driveway forever and forget about it.
But instead Buck moved out quickly. Without ceremony or concern or much of anything.
Eddie just woke up one day to Buck cooking eggs and sausage and having warm coffee brewing in the pot and the next day it was gone.
He woke up and there were no eggs. No sausage. No coffee.
Only a straining feeling in the left of his chest. An odd chill in the air. The tingling in the back of his neck that he missed something. That he’d missed something big.
