Almost Easy

“You look like shit,” Tyler informed me as I pulled my apartment door open.
He had a cup of coffee in each hand, the steam escaping from the tops of each respective lid.
“You should see the other guy,” I smirked. “Get in here. I’m still on the lamb from my neighbours.”
Tyler snaked through the doorway, following me into the living room and sinking himself into my couch cushions. He placed the coffee onto the coffee table and was obviously admiring the mess that had become my apartment.
“Crazy night?” he asked with a raised brow.
I sighed, stealing the cup marked with a B, “I’m on the verge of death. I’m sure of it.”
“Did you have a good time at least?” he asked curiously, seeming to be genuinely curious.
I nodded, sipping at the hot liquid, “Yeah.”
“Jimmy’s pretty cool,” Ty noted with a smirk.
I nodded in response, thinking about what a bad influence Jimmy had proven to be on me already. Though, I guess it wasn’t really him who’d encouraged me to down six shots in succession. That blame was placed entirely on Brian. Wicked but delicious Brian. My face must have given me away.
“Brian behave himself?” Tyler asked oddly, plunking his own coffee from my table.
I scowled, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“He was eying you up like a piece of meat,” Tyler shrugged, giving me a knowing look.
I was irritated.
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked seriously. “You know, some people do find me attractive.”
“You know that isn’t what I meant,” he defended lightly. “You know I think you’re beautiful. I only meant that he has a reputation.”
“I don’t care about reputations,” I told my friend seriously. “Nothing happened, Ty.”
He smirked, “But did you want it to?”
“Of course I wanted it to,” I laughed. “But it didn’t.”
“As long as you’re careful,” he said simply. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Have you met me?” I chuckled. “I don’t get hurt. Especially not by men.”
“Fair point,” Tyler conceded.
“You should have come up last night,” I mused.
Tyler sighed, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine—I’m not offended. I was just surprised is all—I mean…isn’t Synyster Gates, like, your idol?”
“Yeah,” Tyler replied limply. “I didn’t need to watch my idol engage in some weird mating ritual though.”
I nearly choked on my coffee, “That’s the second time you’ve brought it up. So, let’s just come out with it; what’s your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem,” Tyler said without even a hint of mercy. “I’m just fucking worried.”
“About my sex life?” I asked sarcastically. “I’m positive that it’s none of your business.”
Tyler couldn’t bring himself to look at me.
“What are you, jealous?” I scoffed.
“Of course not.”
“Then what?” I pried, slamming my cup onto the table in fine dramatic fashion. “What is your problem?”
“He’s going to fuck you over,” Tyler told me, staring straight into my soul. “He’s going to use you up and toss you to the side. I don’t want to be a fucking part of it.”
“I’m not some damsel in distress, Tyler,” I groaned. “I don’t need the man to marry me—fuck, I don’t even know if I like him. We’ve hung out exactly once and, like I said, nothing fucking happened.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tyler tried weakly.
“It does god damn matter. You’re acting like a petulant child about something that a.) doesn’t exist, and b.) is none of your business.”
“You are my business.”
I rolled my eyes but resisted the urge to throw a tantrum.
This was a common theme with Tyler and my relationship. Any time that a man would so much as sniff in my direction, Tyler would get his back up. It didn’t matter if the guy was asking for a lighter or asking for my number, Tyler was the same amount of defensive.
There’d been one or two guys who’d done some questionable shit to me for sure. It seemed to bother Tyler more than it had ever bothered me. I guess that’s what friends were for though.
“Tell me this,” Tyler tried, easing his nerves, “if some girl with a reputation for being a bit of a harlot, came around and was trying to bed me—what would you do?”
“I’d kill her obviously,” I said with a half-laugh.
I was kind of serious.
“Right,” he sighed. “I don’t want to have to kill Synyster Gates. It would leave a serious void in my music, Blair.”
I flopped myself down next to Tyler, resting my head gently against his shoulder.
“You won’t have to kill him,” I giggled. “I promise, Ty. I’m a big girl—I can handle the ol’ fuck and chuck.”
“I know,” he breathed deeply. “Sorry for acting like a fool.”
“You’re fine,” I assured him, rubbing his arm. “I love you even when you’re stupid.”
He smiled finally, “I appreciate that.”
“So,” I eased awkwardly, “what’s on your agenda for the day?”
“What’s left of it you mean?”
It was already nearly six.
I nodded.
“I was going to go grab John,” our bassist, “and grab some dinner. Feel up to it?”
This was it. This was the exact moment that I made the choice to lie to my best friend. Given our exchange, it was safe to assume that he would not be cool with my second round of partying with Jimmy. Especially since Brian would also be in attendance.
Brian was decidedly a thorn in Tyler’s paw.
“No, not tonight,” I faked a yawn. “I’m still beat from last night.”
“Seriously nothing happened?” Tyler asked again, this time seeming more curious than judgemental.
“Unfortunately not,” I chuckled. “Maybe next time.”
I could feel Tyler tense up but he didn’t press the issue any further. Smart man.
“Have you seen the man?” I continued. “Tell me you wouldn’t fuck him if you could.”
“He’s just not my type,” Tyler joked. “I do see your point though.”
Who couldn’t see my point? Anyone that had had the privilege of setting eyes on Brian would understand the intense desire to screw his brains out. The fact that he was broody and snarky was just an added bonus.
That was totally my type.
“So you’re just going to spend the night in?” Tyler asked, I thought he might be suspicious but it was possible I was just being paranoid.
I’d never lied to him. We’d always been painfully honest with one another—as demonstrated by our almost-argument only moments prior.
I couldn’t look at him, “Yeah, I think so.”
“That’s cool,” he shrugged. “Let’s get breakfast tomorrow before we have to be in the studio.”
Fuck.
I’d completely forgotten that I had a job. I’d also neglected that my job required me to flex my vocals the next day—it was much more difficult than people seemed to believe. I was already running through a list of possible excuses for my voice would, inevitably, sound like shit. Especially since I was allegedly spending the night prior indoors.
Maybe I’d contract a flu in the next twenty-four hours.
“Sure,” I said finally. “Breakfast sounds good. Pick me up?”
“I’ll be here at 9.”
I could already feel the fatigue.
“I should go,” Tyler rose to his feet. “Just wanted to stop by to give you your latest dose of caffeine.”
I smirked, “I appreciate that.”
The second Tyler was gone, I jumped straight into the ever ongoing process of making myself pretty. I figured this time I was going to be dressed appropriately. Rave meant slutty—I could do slutty.
If you ask me, there’s nothing sexier than slutty with just a hint of goth.
At exactly 9:00, there was an obnoxious pounding on my door.
“Blair!” Jimmy was shrieking through the door. “Blair Peterson! Blair! Blair!”
I rushed myself as fast as I could manage; sure at this point that my neighbours had complained to my landlord about me and I’d be receiving an irate call from him within the hour.
I pulled the door open to shut up my new friend, who only grinned when he spotted me.
“I was afraid you didn’t hear me,” he laughed.
I raised my eyebrows as far on my head as they would go, “People in China heard you, Jimmy.”
“Lucky them.”
I grabbed a small wad of cash and shoved it into my bra—I had no pockets in my entire ensemble. Bringing a purse to a rave would have been a terribly inconvenient decision. No one wants to lug a purse around all night.
My cigarettes were too bulky to fit into my bra. So, naturally, I clutched them firmly. I’d just ask Brian to hang onto them for me—he’d understand.
“Ready?” Jimmy asked hurriedly. “Cab’s waiting.”
I ushered us both out of my doorway and locked the door firmly behind me. As we walked, I couldn’t help but get the sinking feeling that Brian hadn’t come. Why wouldn’t he come up to get me? Why send Jimmy?
“Brian stay home?” I asked as we rounded the fourth flight of stairs.
Jimmy looked at me oddly, “What? No way, man.”
To my great delight, Brian had not stayed home. He was leaned against the yellow cab, cigarette hanging loosely from his bottom lip. He was dressed in shades of black and damn did he look good.
I involuntarily licked my lips.
“See!” Jimmy shouted, holding his arm out in the direction of his beautiful friend. “Brian’s here!”
“I see that,” I said lowly, suddenly embarrassed.
Brian grinned mischievously as I approached him, he bent down to speak so only we could hear.
“What, nervous I wasn’t coming?” he teased quietly.
I blushed and lied, “No.”
“You look really fucking good,” he hummed.
This time, I grinned, “Tasty?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Let’s go, bitches!” Jimmy cried from inside the cab, hanging his dark head out the front window. “Get the fuck in!”
“Ladies first,” Brian smirked, moving out of my way and pulling the door open with him.
“For the record,” I cooed as I brushed my body past him, “You’re pretty fucking tasty yourself.”
He tossed his cigarette with just the right amount of force that it made my heart well. I could hardly contain myself as he pulled himself into the car and the back filled with his scent. I could drown in that smell.
“Let’s go,” Brian smirked, talking to Jimmy but looking at me.
Looking through me.
This, I thought, is hardly a chase. This is a race to the fucking finish line.
I was satisfied to think that I’d be victorious. I was a sore loser, after all.

Notes