A few hours later, the two of them had not advanced at all, spent an ungodly amount of money on ugly mugs and postcards, found an absolutely hideous snowglobe that they both agreed to gift to Rowan at the nearest opportunity, and had an unreasonable amount of fun. Most national parks, they had discovered, didn't actually sell souvenirs; but they had gotten lucky at gas stations and in small towns with run-down souvenir shops manned by overeager old ladies, and they had gone further and further off track without seeming to notice at all. Or maybe they had noticed. Whichever it was, they certainly didn't care.

There really was an awful lot of nature here, Neo realized, for better or worse. Zeke loved it; but Zeke loved everything that was terrifying, and there was nothing more terrifying than Mother Nature herself. Neo himself was not a fan. Mountains were pretty but dangerous to scale, not to mention dangerous period if they were hiding a volcano; wildlife could bite or kick or maim; plants could be poisonous, and trees could fall over and drop branches on you and also tended to host more creepy crawlies than Neo was comfortable with. And then there was the weather, and even if you managed to ignore all of that, there was still the very serious issue of nature knowing all the best ways to ruin your clothes.

The point was, he might like the ugly souvenirs and maybe even the pretty views from a distance, but he did not share Zeke's enthusiasm for actually going exploring, thank you very much.

"Come on," Zeke said for roughly the third time. "We can't get mountain souvenirs without actually seeing some mountains! How would that look like?"

"People do that all the time," Neo protested, balancing several bags of ugly mugs and a slightly cursed-looking wolf plushie on his arms. "It's called being a tourist."

Zeke made a face. "It's called being a poser," he replied. "It's like wearing a band T-shirt without listening to that band and acting like you're a fan!"

Neo's brain did a screeching one-eighty.

"That," he said sharply, "is a crime."

"Right? I didn't get beaten up in the hallways for somebody else to steal that look for the aesthetics!" Zeke gestured with the eerily realistic snake toy he had gotten for cheap at one of the small town stores. "Pretending to have done a thing when you didn't is for liars and losers!"

That, Neo had to admit, made a frightening amount of sense. He hated to admit it, but Zeke had a point. A very, very convincing point.

"I'm not a poser," he said, gripping the plushie tighter. "But we don't have the time to climb mountains! We're already late as shit, remember?"

Zeke crossed his arms. "We had time to buy these," he said, nodding to their souvenirs, "we have time to go exploring."

"Not the same."

"Time is time." Zeke studied him closely. "Or are you scared?"

Neo stiffened. "Scared of what?"

"Exploring." Zeke's grin turned wolfish. "Scared you'll meet another birdie?"

Oh, now he had done it.

"I'm not scared," Neo burst out, unlocking the car and dumping his findings into the backseat. "You're scared!"

"At least I don't scream about birds."

"Says the guy who starts shaking before every show."

Zeke flinched, the humor vanishing from his face, and instantly Neo felt like an idiot. Why had he said that? They'd been finally getting along for a change, and here he was, crossing the line of harmless bickering straight into personal attack territory. Which was not to say he'd take it back, obviously. It was true, for a start. And Neo was never one to back down on the truth.

"Well, excuse me for actually getting adrenaline before a show, like any normal person," Zeke muttered, stashing his findings away and heading for the passenger seat. "Maybe you just don't get it 'cause you're a goddamn robot. And that's why you hate nature, because you're just a stupid piece of technology."

Now it was Neo's turn to flinch. Why exactly, he didn't understand either. This was, after all, the image he had cultivated of himself: all the coolness and zero emotions except for a vague aura of intensity and charm, and clearly it had worked. A little too well, maybe. But also, thank goodness it had worked that well, because if Zeke ever found out just how much of a neurotic mess he really was, he'd never let him live it down.

"I just don't see why I should panic," he answered, getting in the car. "I know I can play."

"Yeah, yeah, because you practice so much. Yada, yada, yada."

"If you know that, then get off your ass and start practicing too."

"That's not the point!" Zeke replied quietly, sulking in his seat. "And you know it."

"Then what?"

Zeke shrugged.

"People staring at you," he said after a while. "Judging you. Not that you'd get it, you love being the center of attention." He scoffed. "Self-absorbed prick."

"Man-baby," Neo retorted without much bite. The car rumbled to life under his hands, and he pulled it out of the parking lot and down the dusty gravel road, back into the direction they had come from.

Beside him, Zeke was sulking again. Of course he was; he always ended up sulking when they talked for any significant amount of time. What else had Neo expected? They had already gotten along suspiciously well for a suspiciously long time—of course it wouldn't have lasted. The two of them could momentarily join forces all they wanted, in the end they always wound up butting heads over something stupid and avoiding each other again.

In other news, water was wet.

"I should leave you by the roadside," Neo muttered under his breath, not loud enough for Zeke to hear him. Or better yet, he added in his head, should've left him at that scene club where they first crossed paths five years ago.

Too late for that now.

And all he could do now was get them back on track. The sooner they made it to L.A., the sooner this bizarre fever dream would finally have an end.

~ ~ ~

Meanwhile, in the passenger seat, Zeke was glaring idly at the landscape and wishing this whole stupid trip would end already.

Most of today had been fun, so much fun that he had almost forgotten that fun never lasted with Neo. Of course it didn't; he was already amazed enough that they'd managed to get along for the better part of the day today, given that Neo had never shown any signs of liking him at all. Ever since Rowan and Sky had approached him in that ratty basement venue where he had made a living accompanying aspiring singers, Neo had been nothing but aloof towards him, scoffing at everything he did, nitpicking, calling him lazy and childish and pestering him to work harder. And Zeke, in turn, had used every opportunity to make Neo's life harder with whatever little jabs and annoyances he could manage. That was just how they worked together: they didn't, plain and simple, and the only reason they hadn't blown up on each other and gone full scorched earth was that they both didn't really have a life outside the band.

And all of that was…fine, mostly. Neo was insufferable in at least seven different ways, some of them mutually exclusive, but at least he was fun to annoy. No, that wasn't why Zeke was sulking right now. That part he was used to.

The problem with Neo was that he sometimes seemed like he was growing a heart, and just when you started to hope for an improvement he turned right around and went back to his old ways.

It didn't happen often, either, which made it all the worse. One time, back when the band had first started gaining traction, Zeke remembered getting crowded by a group of adoring fans and just standing there, frozen in place, his brain unable to process the concept of being liked by so many people at once. That, and the utter lack of personal space. Some of them had been extremely pushy, and Zeke would've likely been crushed by them if Neo hadn't swooped in and dragged him back to the tour van in time. But when Zeke, naïve and wide-eyed, had tried to thank him later, Neo had only scoffed and told him that being around this many fangirls would mess with his ego.

Another time, when recording the second album, things between Neo and Zeke had been worse than ever. Neo had constantly been on his case, nagging him about playing poorly and not pulling his weight in the band; and Zeke had put in even less work out of sheer unfiltered spite. Less and less, until their producer had stepped in at last. Either Zeke stopped goofing off, he had told him, or Neo would play his parts on the recording; and so he had stayed at the studio alone, desperately trying to get the hang of his parts in time and struggling with even the simplest chords. And maybe, he had found himself thinking, he should've listened to Neo after all.

Then the studio door had opened, and speak of the devil. The one walking in had been none other than Neo himself, holding his guitar, for what ungodly reason, Zeke would never know. Zeke himself had scrambled to hide, facing away to make sure no one could see the tears in his eyes; but Neo hadn't approached him. Instead he had sat down across the room and started playing his own parts, playing in such a way that Zeke's own chords suddenly made sense to him again.

And then there was the time Zeke had tried to play his own solo—

"You awake?"

Jolting in his seat, Zeke snapped back out of his thoughts, glaring daggers in Neo's direction. "No, I'm sleeping," he shot back. "What do you want now—woah!"

How they had landed here, he didn't know. It didn't matter. Right now, all that mattered to him was the sight.

The road they had followed had led them up the side of a mountain, gazing down on a jagged, rocky valley half hidden in shadow, dark trees rising up along the gentler slopes. A swift little river ran its course through the center, glistening and glittering in the evening sun. The clouds had parted, and the sunset was bright and orange in his eyes, painting the clouds in vivid shades of pinks and purples.

"I think we're lost again," Neo remarked beside him. "We hit a dead end."

Of course he'd think about that, Zeke thought irritably before undoing his seatbelt and jumping out. "Screw dead ends," he said, inhaling deeply and feeling the wind on his skin, the air smelling of fresh water and rain. "We can worry about that after this view!"

Neo didn't leave the car, but he didn't call him back either. Zeke walked up to the very edge of the valley, gazing down the sharp plunge only inches from his feet, spreading his arms like he wanted to jump and fly. Then he returned, sitting down on the hood of the car, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains and plunge the valley into the shadows of night.

For a while, he just sat there.

Good thing, he thought, they'd gotten lost like that. And at just the right moment too—they had witnessed such a beautiful sight, and only a short while later they would've found themselves here in darkness. A lucky coincidence. He had no idea how Neo had even managed to find this place on a complete accident.

"Zeke?"

He dangled his legs.

"Zeke," Neo called again. "Get back here, we have a problem."

And there they were again, back to reality. Classic Neo.

"What now?" Zeke replied, grudgingly making his way back into the car. "Don't say we're running late, we still have two full days before—"

"Not that."

Neo turned the key in the ignition.

"The engine doesn't start."