'I guess that makes me a dead man walking,' said Dylan sarcastically. 'Where is my walking stick?'

'What are you doing for your 24th, old man?' she enquired. 'It's next week, right?'

'I'm doing nothing,' He replied glumly, 'working.'

He finally looked at her as he slowed on the accelerator. 'Maybe applying for my pension?' he grinned.

Brittany pulled down the compartment mirror from above her and looked into the greasy, rectangular reflection.

'Do you think I'm pretty?' she said.

Dylan's fingers tightened around the wheel.

'Yes, you're nice,' he stammered.

She stared back into her eyes; a murky palette of green and blue looked back at her. She analysed her face and then trailed her fingers over a thin line which had been forming underneath the lower lid; a line which lye from beneath the makeup, glaring at her like a porcelain crack.

She snapped the mirror shut and pulled out her phone.

'The bastard hasn't messaged me back.'

'You can do better,' said Dylan dryly.

She watched him again; examining his face.

'Do you think he's good enough for me? Do you think I should find somebody else?'

He took slow, stuttered breaths and his mind raced through a multitude of answers; some diplomatically correct and others wild moves which allowed him to indulge in his animalistic fantasies.

'Whatever you think is best, I guess.'

She folded her arms and pulled down the window. She lunged her face out into the cold air and opened her mouth like a happy canine. Warm tears streamed across her cheeks - her bleached hair danced in the wind, hurtling behind her shoulders and a fierce breeze blasted the winter's night into her brain.

'How did that feel?' said Dylan as Brittany returned to the warmth. The rush of wind vanquished as the window slid back up.

'It was euphoric,' she said. 'I feel like heaven has entered me.'

'You make me laugh so much.'

Dylan's lights were beaming onto empty stretches of road - where miles of emptiness poured in front of them.

'It's always so creepy driving down these lanes,' observed Brittany. The towering trees blurred past her like tombstones.

'I know,' he admitted. 'Nice in the summer, horrible in the winter.'

Brittany leaned closer to the windscreen and glanced up at the sky.

'The day is breaking,' she said proudly. 'We've done it, we've nearly stayed up the whole night.'

'I think we have insomnia,' uttered Dylan.

Brittany fell back into her seat and watched his face. If only he could decide what he wanted from her she thought impatiently.

She reached for her phone again and rolled it around in her hands, biting her lip and slowly plotting her next move.

'Do you think it's the man's job to make the first move?' She questioned.

'You mean, romantically?'

'Yes, that.'

'Is this about the guy who hasn't messaged you back.'

'Sort of,' she lied.

'I think it depends on the situation.'

She was sick of his diplomacy. She wanted to throttle him.

Brittany disappeared in her phone, trawling through her latest profile picture which was a full body shot of her in a bikini from her last holiday. She opened up a list of all the boys who had liked it and started soaking in their compliments, allowing their sleazy one liners to breathe tiny pockets of air into her wiltering ego. When she looked up, the roads had disappeared and a large scope of field had opened up in front of them. The bright blue sky was beaming down into the car with the faint sting of dawn bleeding into their eyes.

'Where are we?'

'Lost,' laughed Dylan.

He slowed the car and it made a crackling sound on the hard gravel underneath the tyres. He parked it up and then stepped out. She followed. The sound of their car doors clicking and clonking shut echoed in the vast silence that enveloped them.

'Can you hear the water?' chimed Brittany. 

'We're near a beach.'

They trekked slowly up a sandy hill and said nothing, walking side by side in perfect unison, their steps symmetrical, their movements like choreographed dancers weaving into each other's space.

'Here, a gift.' smiled Dylan, reaching below his feet.

'A rock?' snorted Brittany.

'A rock? It's a meteor,' he joked. 'From up there.'

She held it in her meek hands and felt the harsh jagged points jut into her soft skin.

'It's perfect,' she laughed, holding it close to her chest.

When they reached the end of their path, they looked out to a thin slither of water in the distant horizon. Miles of greenery mapped itself out in front of their scrawny bodies.

'My chest hurts,' complained Brittany, dropping the rock.

Dylan picked it up and looked back at her car.

'Let's go back then,' he suggested.

When they got inside, Dylan placed the rock into the backseat of his car and started to drive into some other winding roads.

'We are definitely lost,' he complained.

 Brittany gripped her chest and took a deep breath.

'I can't breathe properly,' she said reaching for a cigarette.

'Maybe you shouldn't smo-'

Brittany flicked her lighter and let the flame redden her cigarette.

'Cancer sticks,' said Dylan.

She ignored him, closed her eyes and let the rush of smoke swell in her lungs. She blew out. Another drag, a little more relaxed. Brittany then formed her lips into a circular shape and puffed the smoke out in a string of o shapes, like rusty halo rings.

'Talent,' admired Dylan.

He wound down his window and let the hot air rush out into the open - but a formidable heat had started to rise in him.

'I think I want to get home soon,' said Brittany.

Dylan felt a weight lift itself from his shoulders. Finally, he would rest. 

'You don't just drive around all night, because of me, do you?' 

'No,'

'You're like my counselor. You listen to all of my problems. You put up with me a lot.' She was rambling a string of observations. 'Why?'

'I don't know,' he said.

As empty miles trailed behind them, Brittany turned on the radio.

'Emergen- cy - collisi - roa- casualties - fata-' said a distorted voice.

'What's that?' said Brittany.

Dylan clutched his chest again as the radio crackled.

'I don't know,' he said. 'Maybe we're picking up on muddled reception.'

Brittany rested her head against Dylan's lap and he slowly ground the car to a halt.

'I'm ready to sleep,' she announced.

Dylan felt something trickle down his forhead but when he dabbed at the itch he saw that it was blood. He took a deep breath and watched the bright sky melt away in front of him. The windscreen faded to black and the smell of burning rubber filled his vehicle. His eyes shut and when he opened them again he was laying on his back on the cold road; a silver moon hung against the sky above him. He was surrounded by paramedics.

The voices from the radio played again. He heard the key words clearly. 'Emergency. Collision. Road. Casualties. Fatality.'

Dylan shuffled through his memory like a pack of playing cards. He had looked at his phone when he was driving; his car had hit a tree. Brittany had kicked her feet against the dashboard as they collided. He had been pulled from the wreckage by paramedics but it had been too late for Brittany. He decided that if it was too late for her, it was too late for him. Dylan's lids fell and the sky warmed up and a crisp blue morning reappeared. Brittany was half asleep on his lap and he was stroking her soft hair.

'Where were you?' she asked in a daze.

'Somewhere else' he said. 'It's ok. I'm back now.'

'Don't leave me again.' she said.

'I won't. I'm staying with you.' he said

She smiled sweetly and then eased into his lap a little more. She closed her eyes and started fading away into a deep slumber. 

'Goodnight, Dylan,' she whispered softly.

'Goodnight.'