𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 [finn wolfhard]

₁ . home

The past two days have been mostly just plain driving, through the highway and passing through the same areas we had been in on our first adventure. Not even close to as thrilling, though. No stops for camping at the grand canyon or drunk nights at motel pools. We just drove during the day, then slept at hotels two nights in a row. We were tired both nights, immediately crashing once we checked in. 

But the ride was great, we got to catch up in person and Finn was able to fill me in on what's been happening in his life since we last had contact. Endless hours of talking has allowed us to both detail the past few months for each other, and let us reminisce over our old memories and all that's transpired since then. 

I have also crossed a few things off the bucket list. And with my new phone, I've transferred it onto a digital list on my notes app. The first thing I checked off was the ice cream, which I enjoyed less than half an hour after leaving NASA. I saw a dog later that day, so I got to check off playing with a dog. It was a cute one, too, and I'm super lucky I'm not allergic because I had a small fear that my seclusion would mean I was allergic to a few things. 

We went to the movies last night as a little road stop. So I crossed that off too. It was at some AMC in the middle of nowhere. The movie wasn't amazing, but still a really fun experience with the popcorn and red seats and all that.

Finn and I reach his apartment door after taking the elevator up five floors. I watch him as he fumbles around his pocket for the keys. He gestures for me to enter first once the door is open. I step into the apartment, looking around with curiosity. It's very well lit, and quite open. The large living room connects to a kitchen area, and there's also a little hallway that I'll explore later. 

"This is my place," he says, putting his keys and bag down.

"It's big for just you," I tell him, looking around.

"I usually always have friends over. And I can definitely afford it, anything bigger would feel too big though." 

I look around as I put my backpack down on a kitchen bar stool near the front door. The living room has a big sofa, shaped like an "L", and a large TV in front. There's artwork, mostly band-related, on the walls. There's a bookshelf full of books and vinyl records, and a couple of guitars hung up on the wall. A glass door leads to a little balcony, visible by floor-length glass windows covering the exterior side. There's also an area behind the sofa with a rectangular table and six chairs, which I assume is meant for him and his friends to dine. 

The kitchen is simple, mostly white without too much stuff on the counters. I walk in to get a closer look. There's a photo on the fridge, among a few, that I recognize. It's me and Finn, overlooking the Grand Canyon. I smile to myself, remembering that night. It's cute that he keeps the memory where he can see it often.

"Wanna see the rest?" he asks me.

"Sure," I say, with a smile. I follow him down the hallway. 

"This is the guest bedroom," he tells me, opening the first door. "Jack stays here like every weekend or Lucas, sometimes Malcolm," he adds. It's a simple room, with just a bed and nightstand, and a few things on the walls.

"This is a bathroom," he says, pointing to the door across from it. "Not that interesting." I continue to follow him.

"This is a practice room," he says at the next door we pass. I open it and peek in. There's a drum set, keyboard, and a few guitars all in the small room. 

"And that closet is just laundry," he says pointing to another door across from it. 

"So is this your bedroom?" I ask, looking at the last door.