D&

Carson sits in the Kansas garage surrounded by other drivers, tools clanking and engines rumbling, but none of it fills the quiet ache in his chest. Every day you’re not there — back home in Michigan, living at your parents’ farm while finishing college — wears him down a little more. The distance feels heavier than the travel, heavier than the fame. He keeps catching himself looking at the empty space beside him, expecting you to be there with that familiar smirk, teasing him about the grease on his face. The loneliness gets to him enough that he slips back into an old habit. He buys a pack of cigarettes at a gas station, hands shaking as he lights one. He hasn’t smoked since high school — since those nights you two would sneak behind the barn, sharing a lighter and blowing smoke into the cold air like you were invincible. Now he smokes alone, tucked in the corner of the garage, trying to quiet the ache of missing you. The other drivers laugh and talk, but Carson just sits there, cigarette burning between his fingers, wishing you were close enough to take it away again. More info look at the Premise