"Half of My Hometown"

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A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome back! I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while, but I recently started a new job and haven't had much free time on my hands. I got this request from diana_S_A_m as a second part to "Waking Up in Vegas." I hope you all enjoy it! 🤍🖤
Song: "Half of My Hometown" by Kelsea Ballerini
Rating: Everyone

***

Cruising at 10,000 feet high on the Phoenix jet, you sit by the window alone, fidgeting with the necklace around your neck - a longtime habit that creeps up on you when you're nervous.

Mac takes a seat across from you with a smile. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's just been a while since I went home."

"Why do you insist on lying to me when you know I can see right through you? That's not the reason you're nervous."

"Oh, really? Alright, big shot. Since you know me so well, why am I nervous?" you tease him lightly.

"I don't think you're as nervous about going home as you are about Jack and me going there with you."

"Okay, fine. You got me. It's just I—" you try to conjure an explanation in your head as to why it all makes you apprehensive but give up in defeat. "—I don't know."

"You're worried about us learning too much about you? Is that what it is? You never talk about your family or your hometown."

"I just don't like talking about myself. You know that. And if it weren't for this mission, I wouldn't have to."

But, Mac asks you in protest, "Remember when you gave me that whole speech about facing my fears?"

You roll your eyes, knowing he's right. You know what they say: 'Practice what you preach.' "To be fair, we were very drunk at the time," you jest in return.

***

"Half of my high school got too drunk. Half of my high school fell in love with the girl next door in their daddy's Ford. Half of my main street's mini skirts. Half of my main street's dressed for church. It could use some rain and a fresh coat of paint."

When you land, it's a little bit of a drive to your neighborhood. Once you finally arrive at the outskirts, nostalgia sinks in, and those melancholy feelings from all your childhood memories come back into view.

Your destination is actually the bakery in town. You remember the endless trips there as a kid where your mom would pick up some treats. Mrs. Cunningham, the owner, would always let you pick out a cookie, which you would savor for as long as humanly possible.

But, today you're here to gather some intel on a ring of drug smugglers who pose as delivery personnel in order to transport their "merchandise." And oddly enough, their last known location was this bakery. You just have to figure out why they were here and where they went.

When you finally reach the bakery, you, Mac, and Jack walk in, and the familiar aroma of baked goods heightens your senses. Immediately, the girl behind the counter looks up and squeals with excitement. "Ah, Y/N!?"

She runs over and hugs you without a moment's hesitation.

"Hi, Bethany."

"What are you doing here?" she wonders in surprise.

"I brought my friends here to visit," you vaguely lie.

After all your introductions, Bethany insists, "Everyone have a seat! I'll get you some cobbler on the house."

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