Trashed and Scattered

Jimmy and Peyton talked until their bodies could take no more. They fell into a comfortable sleep, still entangled in one another. When they awoke in the morning, they knew that everything had to be different. There was no playful banter, no pressing need to linger...Jimmy was overcome by urgency. He needed to smooth over his life and he needed to get a hold on his feelings.
Peyton, as always, was in control. She'd made peace with Jimmy's decision overnight. She was practically an expert at reigning in her emotions; she'd had serious practice all her life. While maybe it was more subtle than the abuse she'd been brought up, it hurt just the same.
"So," Peyton said as Jimmy hovered by the door. "I guess I'll...see you around?"
Jimmy's face contorted with confusion, "You're not coming to the studio with me still?"
"Oh," Peyton blinked with surprise. "I didn't...think that offer was still good."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Jimmy gasped.
She raised her brows, as if to insist that he knew why--but she couldn't bring herself to say the words out loud.
"We're friends, right?" he asked hopefully.
Peyton nodded, swarming with relief.
"Friends do things together, Peyton," he smirked. "That's kind of the whole point."
"Okay," she laughed nervously.
He smiled down at her, "I'll be back in an hour to pick you up."
He planted a quick kiss on her cheek, hating himself for lingering just a little too long. It took all of his constraint not to slide his effort to the left and lock her into his lips forever. Her lashes beat against her cheeks as she recovered from his sweet gesture.
"You're beautiful, you know," Jimmy said quietly, forcing himself to step back from her finally.
She shook her head, swallowing down her wants, "You can't say things like that."
"Friends compliment each other," he shrugged her off.
He wanted to be her friend...He needed to be. He couldn't justify losing her from his life. There was no scenario in his mind where that played out and he'd end up happy...But he wasn't ready to give up his life, either. So, for now...He'd have to learn how to separate himself from her. It shouldn't be that hard, he figured. He'd been without her for half his life.
But he'd been with her for the other half...
"Can you do me a favor?" she asked oddly, leaning against the open door frame.
He shrugged, "Sure."
"Can you not tell your friends about this?" she was too embarrassed to look at him. "I just think it will be easier if...if no one else knows."
He recognized the pain in her. There were those pesky hands of guilt again, ripping at his tattered heart all over again.
"Okay," was all he could think to say.
She glanced up at him, "No regrets."
With a soft laugh, he nodded, "No regrets."
Despite how absolutely perfect she looked standing there staring into his soul, as the sun beat down onto her face, he made himself leave.
Peyton pushed Jimmy from her mind the second he shut the door. There was nothing to think about; nothing to mull over. She'd spared, easily, the most incredible night of her life with him...and now it was over. She figured it was probably best that way--she'd never been good at relationships. She'd end up destroying any semblance of affection he held for her, if only she'd been given the time.
This way, no one was hurt...Well, too hurt...Okay. Regardless, by approaching it this way, they could have a real shot at a friendship. She wasn't convinced it would work; she had absolutely no will power when it came to that man's gaze. He weakened her, while simultaneously empowering her.
"Stop," she instructed herself as she stepped into the steaming shower to wash away her sins.
She readied herself as quickly as she could, determined to look anything but downtrodden. In truth, her soul ached so badly that it pained her just to stand.
Jimmy had arrived exactly when he'd said he would. She was genuinely surprised; he was endlessly late as a child. She used to lie about the start times of things to accommodate his lazy internal clock. Maybe he'd grown out of it, she'd thought.
She wasn't sure if Jimmy had downed a pot of coffee or run off and railed some line of coke, but he chatted her ear off for nearly twenty minutes. The girl couldn't get an edge in. When he finally stopped to take a breath, he grinned at her.
"You can let it be awkward, Wiley," she smirked, finally catching up to him.
"Matt's really pumped you're coming along today," he told her happily. "He's been dying to do the whole reminiscing thing."
She and Matt had never been close. They were friendly acquaintances; their only real connection was Jimmy. Their paths would cross every so often and they'd be forced into social situations, but for the most part they ran in different circles. He was the cute boy down the street and she was Jimmy's shy friend.
Matt didn't believe Jimmy for a single second when he'd try and explain that Peyton wasn't shy. "She's just choosing her audience," he'd told his unbelieving friend. Matt had rolled his hazel eyes and waved it off as Jimmy's story-telling. He'd never seen Peyton act outwardly. Some might go as far as to deem her as unfriendly. That was, at least, until you'd get her to speak. She was as intelligent as Jimmy, but far more polite.
She'd moved away before they'd had a chance to really bond.
Matt was an opportunist. Given that she was back in town and, once again, hanging around with his best friend, why not extend a branch?
"Remember when that kid told you that Metallica sucked?" Peyton grinned, watching her friend intently for reaction. "And he said that Metallica was a 'dad's band'?"
Jimmy laughed loudly, "Shit, I forgot about that."
"And Matt hit him so hard that his nose bled?" Peyton continued excitedly.
"Yeah!" Jimmy roared. "His mom called my mom and I was grounded for a fucking week! It was horseshit! I didn't even hit the fucker."
Peyton chuckled.
"It isn't even a good insult," Jimmy cackled, shaking his head at the memory. "Leave it to Matt to defend the things he loves...Even from terrible, nonsensical jabs."
"Does he still fight people that piss him off?" Peyton asked curiously but with a distinct, shit-disturbing grin.
Jimmy shrugged, "Nah, not really. If you want to see a fight, just tell Brian his hair's uneven."
Peyton laughed, "He does have nice hair. He must spend hours conditioning."
"Can you please repeat that to Zach when we get there?" Jimmy smirked.
"Confidential," she teased, tapping at the end of her nose twice.
Jimmy waved her off, "Killjoy."
"How'd you meet Brian anyway?" she asked nosily. "You said he's your best friend, right?"
"Yeah. That guy's...my heart and soul," Jimmy smiled fondly, which melted Peyton's stone heart. "We met...shit, not long after you left, I guess."
"At school? Music lessons?" she bated for more intriguing information.
He grinned widely, "At school...He hit me, that bastard. He hit me and we've been best friends ever since."
"Remind me to high five him when I see him," Peyton played. "Was it a good hit?"
Jimmy laughed, "Not bad."
"Fuck," Peyton sighed teasingly. "Maybe a blowjob's in order then."
Jimmy's eyes widened with horror as his friend erupted with laughter.
"Too soon," he groaned at her.
He filled her in on the rest of the guys as they closed off the distance to the studio. As they pulled into the parking lot, Peyton was indescribably nervous. The opinion of the men inside would matter greatly to Jimmy...and Peyton wanted to make a good second impression. She wasn't here on her own merit like the first time they'd met. This time, she was here as a tag along and it simply changed the stakes.
"Come on," Jimmy encouraged before climbing out from his car.
Peyton trailed him hesitantly, the building growing in size and taking on teeth as she drew nearer to it. Jimmy sensed her resistance and offered an arm, which she happily snatched.
The building was filled to the brim with beautiful chaos. Chords strummed out from one direction and piano keys sounded from another. It was a lot to wrap a head around, but Jimmy trotted down the hall without a second thought. His whole life was chaos, it would take more than ambient noise to stir him.
He pulled her through a closed door and she was immediately faced with two familiar faces. Matt jumped from his chair when he saw her, pulling her into his strong arms. She tried her best not to drool on his freshly pressed shirt.
Brian's chocolate stare caught her attention and she met the gaze over Matt's shoulder. He had a cold brilliance that radiated out through his pores. She didn't doubt that he could have his pick from the litter--and she didn't doubt that he had. He had that type of face; smug, but alluring.
In a way, it was almost like glancing quickly at her reflection before the image rippled away.
He set his guitar down next to him and climbed quietly to his feet. Jimmy lit up as Brian came around to familiarize himself with the newest shadow.
"You made it," Brian grinned. "We were all taking bets on which ditch Jim would drive you guys into."
Jimmy scoffed, "I'm the best driver of all of us."
"Dude," Brian laughed sharply. "Talk to me when you're wearing your glasses."
Jimmy opened his mouth to retaliate but found he had no ammunition. As he drew blanks, Brian accepted his victory with pride.
"We were just working on MIA," Matt told Jimmy as he settled next to his hunky friend at the control panel. "Syn's not satisfied."
"I'm never satisfied," Brian groaned playfully.
"Syn," Peyton said to Brian, the only one in actual earshot at that point. "Synyster...Gates? Is that right?"
Brian was smug as all hell.
"Jimmy gave me the brief," she told him, eager to set his ego back in place.
"She didn't know who we were, man!" Jimmy called to his best friend.
Peyton was surprised to learn Jimmy was listening. Like a bat, that man.
Brian gasped, "You didn't know who we were?"
"No," she admitted lowly.
Jimmy called out cheekily, "Dude, her favourite--"
Peyton whipped around, holding one single finger out to warn her friend to cease and desist, "Don't!"
Jimmy relented, a proud smile plastered to his face.
"Holy fuck," Brian muttered. "You...You silenced The Rev."
"Yeah?" Peyton shrugged confusedly.
He laughed, "I've been working on that shit for thirteen years and still can't pull it off. Please, good god, teach me."
"You know," Peyton smirked. "It's really a skill you're either born with or you're not..."
"I'll pay you generously," he grinned, alluring her with just the right amount of decadent eye contact.
She was practically drowning in his gaze, lost in the ripples of black in the brown. The look was opposite to Jimmy, and it left a little something to be desired. Jimmy wasn't confident in the way that Brian was. He practically sweat sexuality, knowingly and purposefully.
Peyton bit into it, "Well if it pays generously..."
"So!" Jimmy declared, taking one large step between the two. "We should show Peyton what we've been working on!"
Brian nodded, patting his friend's back, "Sure, man."
The trio ran Peyton through their opening track, the name of which made Peyton laugh...out loud. They were less than amused.
She moved passed the name quickly, running her entertainment over with a dump-truck. The drumming caused an actual heart palpitation. Jimmy was watching her intently as she tapped her fingers rhymically against her thighs. By time the song rolled out, she was impressed. The sound was drastically different than the album she'd been listening to.
She made a note to ask Jimmy about the departure in tone.
"It's really good," she told them happily. "Really fuckin' catchy. It's...punkier...than I was expecting."
"Expecting?" Matt asked curiously. "What were you expecting?"
She shrugged, "I listened to a bit of Waking the Fallen yesterday...This is just wildly different."
"Oh, so you do know who we are," Brian stated cheekily.
She rolled her jade eyes, "I do...now."
"Any songs stand out to you?" Matt asked curiously. "I remember you had a pretty sick taste in music way back."
Jimmy opened his mouth to, again, reveal her dark secret love for Chris Martin. She, again, stopped him.
"Remenissions," she said without having to think about it. "I must have hit repeat sixty times."
Brian caught himself analyzing the words as they fell from her perfect lips. She wasn't saying anything particular interesting, or that he hadn't heard before, but there was something about the way she said it...He was hanging off each and every word. She was different from the girls that his friends had brought around through the years. She was strangely independent, and Brian was wildly intrigued.
The silver hanging from her lip wasn't a bad touch, either.
They let a few minutes of small talk pass before reluctantly getting back to work. Peyton sat with Matt as Brian tried, and failed, to work through a solo. He roared with impatience, tiling his head straight back as the sound ruptured from his throat.
Zach's head appeared in the doorway as Brian gave himself a quick, quiet pep talk.
He smiled at Peyton, "Oh, hey! How's it going?"
"Well," she answered politely. "You?"
"Good, good," he nodded before turning his attention to Jimmy. "Can I borrow you? We have a....fire extinguisher situation out here..."
"Say no more!" Jimmy grinned, bounding from his chair and out the door behind the floating head.
"Can we take fuckin' five?" Brian groaned.
Matt nodded, "Sure, man. I kind of want to see what's going on in the hall..."
Brian didn't look up as his friend invited Peyton along but she declined. Matt shrugged, darting quickly out the door. Peyton watched Brian fiddle around with frets, his picking style unusual. As his finger slipped once more, he resorted to loud cussing. It was real loud.
Peyton took a deep breath and slipped around the control booth and into Brian's space.
His eyes flickered with acknowledgment but he didn't so much as groan at her.
"I think I can help," she told him softly.
He furrowed his brows at her, "You can help?"
She rolled her eyes at him for the second time in five minutes. She held her hands out and gestured to Brian to pass her his guitar. He hesitated, planting his hands on it like a mother with their child.
"I promise I won't hurt it," Peyton grumbled.
Brian caved, hesitantly gracing her with his precious baby.
She stretched her fingers out once and then twice before moving her left hand along the fret board. She copied each and every note perfectly, as if she'd memorized and rehearsed it for weeks on end. Brian's jaw was on the floor as she flashed him a cocky smile.
"This," she said as he fingers slid up the neck, "needs to be this."
Brian was floored.
She planted a hand atop the strings, cutting their melody in an instant.
"More than just a pretty face, huh?" Brian gawked as she handed his guitar back.
She laughed, "Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold."
As she moved to slip away, retreating back to the stool beside Matt's, Brian was even further intrigued.
"Hey," he called to her, gesturing to the other side of the room as she glanced at him. "Grab my other guitar. Come play with me for a bit."
She sized him up, "Shouldn't you be working?"
He chuckled, "We both know that's not boding well for me...I could really use the distraction."
Feeling like there was no point in arguing about it or feigning disinterest, she hurriedly snatched up the guitar and sat herself once more across from him. They experimented with jazz before moving into the rock classics that they'd both been raised on. Just as Brian was immensely impressed by Peyton, Peyton had found herself swooning every so often. The sheer speed the man could move his fingers at had her nearly foaming at the mouth.
"How long have you been playing?" he asked her curiously as he took a break to sip at a beer.
"All my life," she answered in a sigh. "My dad's a music teacher...So...I was a student of all subjects."
He was intrigued all over again, "All subjects?"
She nodded, unwilling to get into the long list of instruments she was familiar with. Some were better than others, and some were failed attempts all together. Like the tuba, for instance. She'd tried to learn it when she was twelve; and had failed. She'd never tried that one again.
"My dad's a musician too," Brian told her casually.
She found herself smiling.
Before they could get into the logistics of their very different upbringings, the studio door flew open and all of the guys piled in...with two blondes in tow. Jimmy exchanged a panicked look with Brian, who seemed to understand right away. Peyton examined the exchange but didn't quite understand.
But as the blondes set eyes on her, Peyton quickly extrapolated. These must be the girlfriends, she thought to herself.
"Oh," the taller blonde spoke. "Who's this?"
"This is Peyton," Johnny answered. "She's that tattoo artist I was telling you about."
She cocked an eyebrow, "And she's here because..."
Peyton looked to Brian for assistance. He smiled sympathetically.
"Don't listen to her," the second blonde smiled at Peyton, taking a few steps toward her. "I'm Natalie."
"Peyton," she said, feeling more and more stupid with each passing second.
She felt like she'd been holed up in a lion's den and the pride had just returned.
"It's nice to meet you," she smiled. "Who are you here with?"
Peyton's eyes fell behind the friendly blonde, where Jimmy's lips were pursed and his eyes were worried. Peyton was at a standstill. She didn't know what to say. All she could do was repeat "Natalie, Natalie, Natalie" over and over in her head.
"Me," Brian spoke up instinctively.
He reached a hand over to Peyton and set his hand on her knee. She resisted the urge to swat it away.
"Oh!" Natalie gasped happily. "It's always nice to meet one of Brian's...friends."
Peyton grimaced with no regard for the discrete.
"So you're coming to Johnny's with us then?" she asked Peyton curiously. "We're all headed there...You probably already knew that."
Brian nodded assuredly, "Of course she's coming."
"We're being given the bum's rush, men!" Zach called to the room.
"Everyone out," Johnny added. "Women's order!"
To Peyton's horror, Jimmy didn't even cast an apologetic glance in her direction. He did nothing but follow on the heels of his blonde lover. It was then that Peyton really understood the impact of what she'd agreed to. It was like taking a knife to a major artery, but no one even noticed she was bleeding out.
Jimmy didn't notice.
"Oh, for fuck's sakes," Peyton grumbled, an even heavier realization setting in.
Brian looked at her strangely as he set his guitar back onto its stand.
"That fucking idiot was my ride," she muttered.
Brian laughed, extending his hand to her. As she looked up at him with those piercing greens, he nearly died on the spot. Though he hadn't judged Jimmy for kissing this divine creature beforehand, he certainly moved to understood it clearly after spending just a little time with her. She was working her witchcraft on him without hiccups.
And she didn't even seem to notice.
She looked from his hand to his grinning face a few times over.
"It looks like it's just you and I," he said finally. "So, come on."
Daring herself not to linger on the unresolved feelings Jimmy had just dusted up inside of her, she let herself smile. Slipping her hand into Brian's, he pulled her to her feet and they set off after the others slowly, taking their time to let their fingers fall to their respective sides.
As the door slammed behind them, Peyton figured she could play this game better than any Sullivan. He wanted to act indifferent and detached? Game on, Sullivan. She was a Winchester, after all--and they were notorious for destruction.
Let destruction reign.

Notes

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