Ray picked you up late at night, just like Jim had asked. Although, of course, he wasn’t even awake to see it. He was sleeping soundly in the front seat of the car, his head resting against the window, soft breaths escaping him, curls falling across his face.

“He wanted it this way, don’t worry,” Ray told you as he opened the back door for you to get in.

“And as always, he sleeps while the rest of us do all the work,” John joked, making some room for you beside him.

You settled in as best you could in the back seat, squeezed between John and Robby, who sat pressed up against the other door with his guitar on his lap. It was a tight fit, but you didn’t mind. The vibe was good. One of those nights with no set destination, no rush. Just the four of you and the road.

Ray put on some quiet music as he drove, something psychedelic and soft perfect for a night like this. Robby started plucking at the strings of his unplugged guitar, matching the rhythm.

John offered you a cigarette, and whether you took it or not, he gave you a smile. “No plan,” he said, lowering his voice so Jim wouldn’t wake. “Ray knows a place. You’ll see.”