[DISCONTINUED] The Lonely Hearts Club | Dallas Winston X Reader

1

Y/n sat on the corner of her bed, placing her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands in a huff. All day, since her father had told her they were moving again, she had this sense of dread looming over her. Sure, moving was normal for y/n, but this time her and her father were moving out of state. She couldn't help but fear that this would become the new norm. Moving from state to state, eventually even out of the country.

"Y/n, are you ready?" Her father's gruff voice called up the stairs, shocking her from her stupor.

"Yeah." She called back. She grabbed the strap to her bag, which was full of personal belongings, and walked down the creaky stairs. The rest of the stuff in their house had been put into a moving truck, which had left that morning.

"Don't get sentimental about it Y/n. There's no use in crying over something that isn't alive." Her father said when he noticed her tear stained eyes. She had been crying earlier, but thought that by now the side effects would have gone away.

Y/n only nodded in response, hanging her head low and walking past her father to their rusty truck. It was actually fairly new, but for whatever reason, it looked banged up. There was a dent in the back door–which made it difficult to open–and the red paint had already begun to chip and faint.

"This next home will be permanent." He says, sticking his keys into the ignition.

"I didn't think a guy like you would move to Oklahoma of all places. I thought you liked the sea."

"I do like the sea, but I need the job."

"Where are you gonna work?"

"Fixin' cars,"

His annoyed tone told y/n the conversation ended there, and she reserved herself to the window of the passenger seat, staring at the scenery—she thoroughly enjoyed the Pacific Northwest and it's nature, but she would have to leave it behind. Washington had been her home for many years and she couldn't imagine living anywhere else, but here she was.

Y/n's parents were complete opposites. How they could spend more than 30 minutes together or even have a kid together completely astonished her. Y/n's mother was kind and outgoing. She was always willing to lend a helping hand, but her father was another story. He was stern, intimidating, and didn't really get along with most people. Whatever her mom saw in him must have disappeared the day he left for the military.

The radio was quiet, which made the ride even more boring and long than it already was. It was a trait her father gained from the service, Y/n assumed. Her mother told her stories of how he used to play guitar for her and his friends, something y/n would almost pay to see. What could be heard on the radio was a slow crooning Blues song, which her father tapped along to. Maybe some part of the old him was still in there, but y/n didn't care enough to look for it.

"Y/n, I know I've been hard on you, but I hope you know that it's for a reason, not because I don't love you." Y/n didn't respond to her dad at first. It was out of the blue and honestly, she thought she imagined it, but when she looked at him out of the corner of her vision and saw his pursed lips and furrowed brow and realized he said it, she couldn't help but feel mildly annoyed. Of all times, of all places to get emotional, it was now—in a car with no way to escape, to way to give an excuse that she didn't hear him.

"Thank you, dad" Was all she had the guts to respond with. And after that the drive was silent.

----

Soon enough, after Y/n fell asleep and woke up multiple times, they arrived at their new house. they drove overnight, and they hadn't had a chance to get out of the car and stretch, which Y/n was less than thankful for. The car door squeaked loudly as it opened, and small parts of paints seemed to find their way to y/n's fingers. Y/n grabbed her bag, which was placed between her feet during the drive.