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Kavinsky was glad that he'd had a couple of days to rebound, following getting home. Al had made sure that Beca knew he was back, but there'd been no reason to go in over the weekend. So he got days and days to lay in with the boys, to enjoy the quiet comfort and closeness, to make sure he still had his job at the club--he didn't dance, but they were glad to know he was alright--before he went back to Arch Studios.
He drove. It was nice to do that again. His car had been at the club, right where he'd left it when he'd been picked up, and after he'd dreamed up new house and car keys, it had been easy, at least, to deal with that. He couldn't bring himself to dream up any of the rest of it: the fob for the Mitsubishi or his dumb keychain or the locker key or the key for the Studio. Some of it was nostalgia that hurt too much; he could have, but it all hurt too much. The others, the keys, were because it was a responsibility thing. People had trusted him, like he'd never been trusted before, and he'd betrayed that by getting his sorry ass kidnapped and losing his keys somewhere and there was nothing for it.
So he picked up coffees and treats and drove to work. Monday was bright and sunny like the world hadn't been a disaster for almost three weeks. He showed up early, knowing he'd be there before Beca, and waited with the coffees on the hood of the Ferrari.
He drove. It was nice to do that again. His car had been at the club, right where he'd left it when he'd been picked up, and after he'd dreamed up new house and car keys, it had been easy, at least, to deal with that. He couldn't bring himself to dream up any of the rest of it: the fob for the Mitsubishi or his dumb keychain or the locker key or the key for the Studio. Some of it was nostalgia that hurt too much; he could have, but it all hurt too much. The others, the keys, were because it was a responsibility thing. People had trusted him, like he'd never been trusted before, and he'd betrayed that by getting his sorry ass kidnapped and losing his keys somewhere and there was nothing for it.
So he picked up coffees and treats and drove to work. Monday was bright and sunny like the world hadn't been a disaster for almost three weeks. He showed up early, knowing he'd be there before Beca, and waited with the coffees on the hood of the Ferrari.
