4. Where the Smoke Used to Linger

[𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗟𝗘: 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗠𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥] 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: It's a bit of a challenge playing GARVAN in this part. I feel like I need to grab a pack of Marlboro, sit on a street corner with my legs casually apart, just to understand how he feels... But you'll never catch me like that in real life. [𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧] (𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵. 𝘔𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘬𝘦𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘩𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘮𝘴. 𝘈𝘯 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.) 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗨𝗘: "GARVAN... you're leaving early again?" 𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗡: "Again?" 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗨𝗘: "Yeah. same time. every day." "Don't tell me there's someone waiting for you." 𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗡: "What? No." "Actually..." "Maybe you got a point." 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗨𝗘: "Wow. I thought I'd never see the day." 𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗡: "What day?" 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗨𝗘: "The day you actually look forward to going home." 𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗡: "Oh, give me a break." "Easy for you to say..." "See ya, Mr. Married." (𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸... 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘺, 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦.) 𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗡 (𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘): Same old me... Same old street... Same old way home... But the corner was not the same. 𝗚𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗡 (𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚): I never noticed this corner mattered Until there was nobody there The street was exactly the same Yet the air forgot the smoke tonight. I told myself I wasn't waiting I was just passing by Funny how a simple little habit Can become something you can't explain. Maybe she smokes somewhere else somewhere she can be alone Maybe she changed her route Maybe she moved away Maybe I was just a stranger Passing through her night. "Why am I making theories" "About someone I barely know?" It's funny... I spent years walking home alone And it only took one stranger To make this road feel longer... without you. (𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵. 𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.) [𝗙𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞] [𝗘𝗡𝗗]