Finding Archie (Foggy Basin Season Two)

Chapter One

Archie

The apartment reeked like no one had lived there for months.

Archie dropped his suitcase by the door and took a closer look around.

Everything was as he’d left it when he went to college.

The same old furniture, same old walls staring at him.

But it all felt different. The living room was bare, except for a beat-up coffee table and a TV stand with no TV.

No magazines on the floor, no dad sprawled on the couch watching some old Western. It was just…empty. And it felt lonely.

Archie’s stomach twisted as he made his way to the kitchen, dreading what he’d find. And there it was: a note, propped up, waiting for him. His dad’s handwriting was messy, like he’d been in a rush.

“Archie” was scrawled across the front. Archie sat down and unfolded the note, his hands shaking a little. The note was just a few lines.

Got a job in New York. Had to leave fast. Apartment’s paid up through the end of the month. After that, it’s up to you. Sign the lease or find somewhere else.

- Dad.

That was it. No apology, no explanation.

The cold message struck Archie harder than a punch.

He stared at the note, trying to wrap his head around it.

Was it something he’d done? Or did his dad want to leave without a fuss?

His father had said he couldn’t pick him up at the airport, so he took a shuttle.

Why didn’t he explain why he couldn’t pick him?

And why the fuck didn’t he ask his father why he couldn’t? Too fearful of the truth.

Hurt settled deep in his chest, and then anger crept in. Not the fiery kind, a slow burn that made his jaw clench. How could his dad leave him like that? How could he leave him alone to figure out his life?

Archie groaned and pushed the note away, glaring at it like it would give him some answers.

The kitchen still looked normal. The table, the chairs, and the old fridge humming in the corner were all still there.

But the cupboards were almost bare, and a sad stack of dishes by the sink said it all: this place didn’t belong to anyone anymore.

His bedroom was no better. The bed, the old dresser, and his posters were still there, but it all felt hollow. It was empty, no warmth, no laughter. It was like the apartment itself was telling him to leave.

Archie flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

He didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself because he had to do something.

He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Andrew.

His cousin was probably the only person who wouldn’t brush him off.

Andrew had sent him a graduation card with some cash and offered him a job at the Blue Star Diner until he got settled.

Archie had shot him a text, thanking him for the card and the cash. He said he’d call about the job.

The phone rang twice before Andrew picked up. “Archie! Long time no talk, man. What’s up?”

Archie hesitated, chewing on his lip. “Hey, uh, listen. I got back tonight from school, and…Dad left. Moved to New York for some job. I’ve got a week to figure out where I’m going to live.”

Andrew paused for a second, and Archie could picture him rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was thinking. “Man, I’m sorry. That’s rough. You need a place to crash now?”

“Yeah,” Archie admitted, feeling a lump form in his throat again. “And maybe a job at Blue Star too. Just until I can find something better.”

Andrew didn’t miss a beat. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. There’s always room in Foggy Basin, and the Blue Star Diner could use an extra pair of hands. You cool with being a server for a bit?”

Archie let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Andrew. Seriously.”

“Don’t sweat it. Come anytime. We’re waiting for you.”

“I appreciate that. How’s Rafael?”

“He’s doing great. Now that I think about it, there’s this Irish high school teacher who comes to the diner. He’s looking to rent a room. He’d be perfect for you.”

Archie smiled, feeling better. “Are you trying to set me up?”

“I meant the room he’s renting is perfect for you.”

“Thanks, Andrew. I’ll message you when I’m on the road.”

Hanging up, Archie stared at his phone, trying to ignore the knot of worry in his chest. At least he wasn’t completely alone.

Andrew had his back, and maybe Foggy Basin would be the fresh start he needed.

But as he looked around the empty apartment again, he couldn’t shake the feeling a part of him would always be stuck here, wondering why his dad didn’t care enough to stay or call.

The next morning, by the time Archie finished getting rid of the last piece of furniture, including the old kitchen set, the apartment felt haunted.

Empty walls, bare floors, and silence echoed everything he wasn’t ready to face.

He stood in the middle of the room; his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and gave it one last glance.

A mix of relief and regret settled in his chest. This place had been home, but now it was a shell.

He sent Andrew a brief text.

Archie: Heading out now. See you soon . No need to overthink it.

He’d already packed his clothes and some keepsakes into boxes and shipped them to Foggy Basin before he left San Diego. What he couldn’t pack or ship, he let go of. The rest was Dad’s problem now, or maybe New York’s. Archie wasn’t sticking around to find out.

When he left the apartment, the sun was rising.

Archie swung his leg over his motorcycle, kicked it to light, and roared down the street.

The wind whipping past his helmet felt like freedom, or as close as he’d felt in a while.

The roads were quiet, the city waking up as he wove through its calm and hit the highway.

San Diego disappeared in his mirrors faster than he expected, replaced by the open stretch of Interstate 5.

As he rode, Archie had too much time to think.

He tried not to dwell on his dad’s note, the sudden move, the mess left behind, but they crept in anyway.

He couldn’t turn off the hurt. His dad hadn’t simply left the apartment; he’d left him.

No explanation, no goodbye. Only an afterthought on a scrap of paper.

Archie clenched the handlebars tighter and pushed the bike a little faster.

If he kept moving, maybe the hurt would stop by keeping busy.

As the miles passed, the scenery changed.

The urban sprawl of Southern California gave way to rolling hills with scrubby trees, then wide-open farmland.

Out here, the air smelled fresher and cleaner with a hint of salt whenever the road veered close to the coast. It wasn’t the home he knew, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

Stopping for gas near Bakersfield, Archie leaned against his bike and stretched his legs.

The morning haze was burning off, leaving a clear blue sky overhead.

He grabbed a bottle of water from a vending machine and gulped it down, letting the silence of the small-town gas station wash over him.

It wasn’t much, but it was a moment to steady himself before getting back on the road.

Northern California felt closer with every mile, though the ride wasn’t quick.

By the time he hit the foothills leading toward Foggy Basin, the sun was starting its slow descent, casting long shadows across the highway.

The wind picked up, carrying the faint scent of pine and a promise of colder nights.

The landscape grew greener, wilder, and more alive.

He could feel the shift in the air, like he was leaving chaos behind and heading toward something calmer or at least different.

Archie tried to picture Foggy Basin. Andrew had told him about it being a small town with good people and a diner with decent tips.

It sounded like a place to catch his breath, and after everything that happened, Archie could use that.

He’d figure the rest out later once he had a place to stay and a job to keep him busy.

For now, it was enough to keep moving forward, the engine’s sound drowning out the doubts in his head.

As the road curved into the hills, the setting sun painted the sky in streaks of orange and pink. It was beautiful, Archie realized, in a way he hadn’t expected. Maybe Foggy Basin would be too.