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Just Rigby. (troubador) wrote in light_of_may,

He chuckled, softly. "Maybe I should have you keepin' track of all these songs I'm to record, 'cause I know I'll forget 'em after I leave here." Which was the truth; Rigby played whatever came to mind, sometimes the same songs on repeat for a while, but most of the time, he switched things up a lot. "And thanks for the confidence, 'bout my record. If I ever have a record."

Father's Day. Rigby tried to forget about that one and most of the time it was easy, long as he stayed away from card stores and anything advertising the holiday. Which, in reality, wasn't hard; what the hell would Rigby do in a Hallmark anyway? "I used to do that," he said. "Now I don't even give him the satisfaction." One hand fell to his side, resting lightly over his scar. His reasonings for wanting to forget the day were far different from hers. Autumn missed her father. Rigby wished his would die already. "We'll have to find somethin' to distract you then."