smackenzie

Jared Padalecki left San Antonio four years ago with a used Ford pickup, three suitcases, and two boxes of books. He moved in with his friend Milo, a guy he'd known since they were twelve, and two of Milo's friends. He got a job at a garage. He haunted online forums and message boards dedicated to restoring and riding old motorcycles. He pined after new Harley-Davidsons and old Triumphs. He bought a secondhand Nintendo. He missed his dogs. He went on three dates with a really cute girl named Sandy, who had been a camp counselor with his friend Alexis three years running. (When he told Alexis he was moving to Nashville, the first words out of her mouth - even before "I'll miss you" and "Why Nashville" - were "My friend Sandy is going to school there! You should meet her and hang out." And it was hard for him to say no to Alexis, so when she said "Call Sandy", he did.) The dating didn't take, but he and Sandy became friends.

After a year Jared and Milo had a falling-out, Jared moved in with his friend Chad, and two months later Chad's new girlfriend moved in as well. Jared liked her, especially since her permanent presence in the apartment meant splitting the rent among three people instead of two, although it also meant she and Chad had nowhere else to go when they wanted to have sex, so sometimes Jared had to listen to it. (Chad's girlfriend was named Sophia, and she was sweet and pretty and a relatively considerate roommate, but loud in bed. And Chad had never been a particularly quiet guy.) But Jared liked her, and he liked Chad, and he wore earplugs to bed and saved his money and tried to plan ahead.

And then Chad graduated from college and fucked off to bum around Europe with Sophia for the summer, and Jared found a subletter for three months and then moved out. He took out a loan, he accepted a fairly large check from his grandparents, and he bought a house. And then he drove back to San Antonio, picked up his dogs and some of the stuff he'd had to leave behind, and decided that even though he was pretty much the only one of his friends who hadn't gone to college - having chosen mechanic school instead - he was now the only one of his friends who owned a house. He had a mortgage, which terrified him, confused his brother, and excited his sister. His parents at least seemed to be proud.

Now he has an old Ford F-150 with ninety-seven-thousand miles on it, a two-year-old Harley in beautiful condition, a thirty-year-old Triumph in bad-but-getting-better condition, the rusted shell of a fifty-year-old Ariel, two dogs, a good job fixing cars, and a house with a driveway and a backyard with a Weber grill. He takes the occasional continuing-ed class in an attempt to catch up on the years of college that he thinks he missed, and between classes he reads a lot. He has friends, some of whom drag him to karaoke even though he can't carry a tune in a bucket. He has a neighbor to look in on the dogs while he's at work. On weekends he tinkers with his bikes and sometimes his truck, and he walks his dogs and he's happy.

* * *

Jensen Ackles left Houston eight months ago in an old Corolla stuffed to the gills with clothes, books, boots, a PlayStation, his guitar, and his worst impulse purchase ever - a set of golf clubs. He left a pretty good job as a physical therapist, a really good friend and roommate, and an asshole ex, and he drove to Nashville on the suggestion of his friend Chris to try and make some kind of living as a singer, songwriter, and musician.

Chris had a band and some contacts in the business, and even though Jensen had no experience as a professional musician he had a flexible voice with a good range, and he was a quick learner, and after he realized exactly how much work was involved in professional music, he tried to make as much of an effort as possible. He called clubs and spoke to booking agents. He went to open-mike nights. He let Chris talk him around. He went to karaoke to practice singing in front of an audience. (Jensen was not by nature much of an extrovert, and even though he'd sung in the church choir and the choir in high school, and he'd been in the drama club, every so often he had an attack of stage fright. Chris laughed at him every time.) He practiced, he took a month of singing lessons, he got a job in a coffeeshop to pay the bills. He was befriended by a coffeeshop customer named Danneel, who thought he could use more friends.

And now he slings coffee by day and sometimes by night, and during slow periods he chats with his fellow baristas or just stands around and listens to their gossip. He writes with Chris. He doesn't play golf because he can't afford the greens fees, but he runs to stay in shape and he joined Chris' gym, which is pretty decent but more importantly not expensive. He drives around the city to familiarize himself with it, because he hopes to stay here a while. He still goes to open-mike nights. Sometimes he goes to the movies and he shoots pool and he considers trading in his PlayStation for a Wii, and he hangs out with Chris' bandmates and with Danneel and sometimes with his coworkers from the coffeeshop, and if he's not always entirely happy, he's happier here than he was in Houston, and he considers that a win.

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