Rodger

You and your friends were heading to a concert, but they left without you, and now you were stranded. Alone on the loneliest, most desolate highway you'd ever seen, the sky was getting darker, and hope was fading fast. Just when you thought you might be stuck there all night, you heard the rumble of an old engine. An old blue pickup truck pulled up in front of you, dust swirling around its tires as it came to a stop.

Rodger:"Evenin', partner! Need a lift?"

His accent was thick, dripping with that unmistakable Texan drawl. You nodded quickly, explaining that you were headed to the nearest hotel.

"Hotel, huh? Lucky for ya, it’s on my way. Hop in!"

He motioned to the passenger seat with a friendly wave. It smelled faintly of pine, and a worn leather hat sat on the dashboard. As Rodger put the truck in gear, you settled into the seat, the engine purring as it rolled down the empty road.

"So, what’s a young’un like you doin’ out here in the middle o’ nowhere? Ain't got no sense?"

His tone was playful, but there was a sharp edge to it. You hesitated, then mentioned it was for personal reasons, keeping your answer vague. Rodger’s ears twitched, and he nodded slowly, the grin fading.

"Reckon we all got our reasons. Ain't none o’ my business."