Trashed and Scattered

By time Brian and Peyton made it passed the exterior doors, the lot was entirely abandoned. Peyton tried to diffuse the disappointment that had sparked up within; she almost couldn't believe that her Wiley had left her behind. She tried to rationalize it away, imagining what she would have done if roles were reversed. She chalked it up to that pesky guilt, giving it full credit and responsibility for Jimmy's wildly labored overcompensation. His girlfriend didn't know what had happened, but Jimmy knew. And, now, Jimmy was creating distance.
Brian dropped a pair of sunglasses atop his nose, feeling like he'd just crawled out of a burrow. It was typically dark by time he'd set off home after a strenuous day of recording, today was an anomaly. He probably would have lingered behind the others, fine-tuning his contributions and reworking tired riffs had it not been for Peyton. Jimmy had all but abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself. Brian didn't figure that was fair; Peyton hadn't invited herself along to the studio...Why should she be left in the dust?
He assumed by her reaction and the hardened look on her face that his best friend had worked up some trouble for himself. He internally chuckled, disappointed with Jim in the least vicious kind of way. But as Peyton's hair lit up in the sun and her green eyes twinkled in the light, he could hardly fault his drummer. This creature was divine, she was mesmerizing. Jimmy had never been one to turn down an impulse--but neither had Brian.
Brian touched at the back of Peyton's arm gently to get her moving toward the car. He took a step back as her entire body lurched at the disruption. She looked immediately humiliated, trying to nervously laugh it off as 'nothing'.
But Brian had heard all the stories, he'd been vexed by Jimmy's insistent infatuation with all things Lexi. While Brian had struggled to find a connection between the girl in the stories and the girl with the tattoos, he had almost convinced himself that Jimmy's past was nothing but a fable. But she jumped and her eyes widened with horror. And then Brian knew, without a doubt, that Peyton was still Lexi deep down inside.
"Sorry you're stuck with me," Peyton spoke to break the awkward atmosphere that her muscle memory had caused.
Brian scoffed lightly, "Don't sweat it."
His passiveness was confusing. Peyton wasn't sure if she should take it at its face value and simply be grateful or if he was trying to be polite to cover up the inconvenience her presence was causing.
Like a true gentleman, he held the door for her and waited as she climbed inside. The interior had a distinct aroma that set Peyton's loins alight. It was musky, with just a hint of cigarette smoke. A dangerous combination, Peyton found, as she subconsciously took a deep breath of it.
Brian walked around to the other side and climbed into the black car, taking no time to hesitate before roaring the engine into life. He gave his passenger a quick smile before pulling the car forward and turning from the deserted lot.
"So where are we going?" Peyton asked confusedly, wishing she'd paid more attention to the blonde speaking.
Peyton had been so distracted by the urge to knock the blonde's front teeth out that there had been no opportunity for listening.
"Johnny's," Brian replied simply.
Peyton glanced around for answers, "Like your friend?"
"No," Brian laughed sharply. "It's a bar at home. It's divey and sketchy as fuck, but it's a bit of a tradition."
"Oh," she grinned with raised brows. "So you're regulars."
He smiled, "Kind of. We go there to hash out our recordings of the day. We've done it since we recorded our last album."
"No better way to analyze your work than by getting drunk enough to take the self-depreciation away," Peyton noted, amused at the creative similarity.
His eyes met hers for a split second, "Exactly."
"That's cool," she said, trailing off into her thoughts.
"The beer's cold, the pizza's fuckin delicious," he told her, feeling the sudden need to sell her on the experience.
She smirked, "I do like a good pizza. I live in New York, after all."
"Ah, shit," Brian grinned. "New York slices are nothing compared to Johnny's."
"I don't think that I believe you," Peyton countered playfully.
He chuckled softly, "I'll let you be the judge. But when you discover that I'm right, you'll owe me big time."
"Owe you for being right?" she quizzed skeptically.
He nodded, "For making me doubt my own senses. You're giving me a complex as we speak."
"Oh, no," she groaned in a tease. "Not a complex!"
He laughed, taking a second to glance over and study her. She was far more relaxed than she'd been only a few moments before. Her fists had unclenched and her jaw had lulled back into ease. Her green eyes were dazzling as they looked back at him. He lost the fight for dominance, losing his moxie under the weight of her unconscious intimidation.
"So what's New York like anyway?" he asked curiously, moving himself along from the tension building in his jeans.
She shrugged, "Cold, expensive...But I love it. It's bustling all the time; I love walking through the streets in the fall. There's nowhere quite like it. I'm right in Manhattan, so I'm in the thick of it all."
"I don't think I could live in Manhattan," he replied thoughtfully. "Too far away from the horizon."
Peyton laughed sharply, "It's a fucking island!"
"Maybe," Brian noted with a devilish grin. "But tell me; have you ever seen a sunrise in New York like the ones we have here?"
Peyton fell into a resistant silence.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Brian snickered.
She found herself smiling, "California is basically a whole other planet."
"Is it weird to be back?" Brian asked, unsure if he was overstepping bounds of curiosity. "How long's it been?"
"Thirteen years," she sighed quietly. "Give or take. It's been...surreal."
"I bet," Brian nodded. "Running into Matt and Jimmy after all those years must have been crazy."
Peyton found herself wondering how much Brian was made privy to. Had Jimmy shared the intimate details of their little evening of heaven? Or was Brian actually operating on genuine curiosity? He seemed sincere enough in his thoughts, which Peyton was surprised to find had her trusting his intentions. He had a neutral kind of innocence that poured out through his dark eyes that she found nearly comforting.
"It was," Peyton finally replied. "It is. It doesn't feel real--sometimes I think I might be dreaming or something."
Brian smiled over at her, "Well, if you're dreaming, then I'm dreaming."
Peyton smiled back, letting her heart thud as he flashed a charming gleam her way.
"Jimmy's really glad to have you here," Brian told her then, glancing over his shoulder before speeding into the middle lane of the interstate.
She just nodded to herself, too uncomfortable with the lie to make anything of it.
"Can I speak candidly?" he asked then.
Peyton furrowed her brows daringly, "I encourage it."
"Jimmy told me about your kiss," Brian offered lamely, trying to remove the lacing of jealousy he hadn't realized had materialized.
"Oh," was all she could think to say.
She considered leaping into action; denying it all or working doubly hard to justify it. But she realized quickly that she had absolutely nothing to justify. She owed nothing to anyone. When the kiss had happened, she didn't know Jimmy had a girlfriend...Not that it really stopped her when she did know. She figured that was an issue to take up with later Peyton, when it had had enough time to properly fester into a newfound character flaw.
"Natalie is kind of jealous," Brian explained casually. "She can be pretty chill and whatever; or Jimmy says she is, anyway. But she's a little fuckin' overbearing. She shows up out of the blue all the time...Usually to bring us food or some shit. I can never tell if it's because she's actually that nice or if she's just suspicious."
"No one is that nice," Peyton noted seriously.
Brian breathed, "That's probably true."
"Well," Peyton sighed, "she has nothing to be jealous of."
Brian scoffed loudly--surprising even himself.
"Care to explain that noise?" Peyton found herself laughing.
"It's just...Do you own a mirror?" he blurted out, daring to meet her amused glances.
She snickered, "Sure, I do."
"You're easily the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Brian said without thinking.
Peyton stared at him uneasily, unsure how to respond. She'd never been quick witted when it came to blatant compliments. She assumed that it was another symptom of her upbringing; the absolute inability to accept any sort of praise.
"That's not a line," Brian assured her with a grin.
"Sure it isn't," Peyton teased with a soft chuckle.
Brian raised his brows, challenged, "If it was a line, you'd know it."
Peyton pretended not to feel the heat rising up within her as his cockiness wore itself into the air between them. The air she found herself imagining she could close in another lifetime.
"And what do I owe you if I find that's true?" she dared him smugly.
He laughed, "I'll have to get back to you."
"Big talk," she smirked, slinking away from his darkened gaze.
Brian was absolutely sideswiped. He loved a girl that could joust on his level, leave him panting and waiting for more. She had fire in spades, total commandment over her mind and her wit. He was practically salivating at the thought of her.
But he reminded himself that she wasn't his to drool over. Jimmy had marked his territory and Brian knew better than to mix a female into the friendship. It never boded well for anyone who'd tried it in the past; and Brian sure wasn't going to experiment with his best friend. Women were a dime a dozen; Jimmy was his soul mate. He owed Jimmy more.
"So," Peyton breathed, filling the gap that had unwittingly fallen between them. "You said your dad's a musician?"
Brian nodded, welcoming the change of topic to ease his budding guilt, "Yeah. He's a comedian too...Which means he thinks he's funny."
"Oh no," Peyton laughed sympathetically. "No one is ever as funny as they think they are."
"Can you please tell my dad that?" Brian snickered.
She smiled, "Any time."
"I'm going to hold you to that," Brian said without thinking. "I need all the fuckin' help I can get. He's ridiculous, Peyton."
Peyton ignored the way her muscles tensed as her name passed through his lips. It sounded somehow like a new entity cloaked in Brian's voice.
"I'm always up for a fight against a ridiculous dad," she smirked. "My dad thinks I'm five still. He's always worrying. He's ridiculous."
"Are you someone to worry about?" Brian asked pointedly.
She shook her head, "Nah, I don't think so. I mostly have my shit together."
"I'm jealous," Brian laughed. "I'm still just going through the motions."
"My hand was sort of...forced," Peyton confessed without intervening quickly enough to stop herself. "I had a pretty fucked up childhood, so...I've had my shit together since I was in diapers."
Brian didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He looked over at her with sympathy dripping from each pore, but she didn't seem to notice what she'd said. Her face had maintained its whimsy, her eyes light and her lips curled into a faint smile.
Brian hadn't known trauma like what Jimmy had described. He couldn't imagine his mother ever laying a hand on him. She'd been overbearing as he grew older, curious about his whereabouts. It felt like a mild form of abuse at the time but as he aged, he realized she'd just wanted to protect him. When he'd learned about Lexi's treacherous past, he was floored. Jimmy had breathed with relief when he'd finally laid it all out into the world--but Brian had always sort of carried it around. He hadn't known the girl, but he wished that he had.
And there she was, regaling in the vague details of how she became the person she was. He was astounded by her strength, if not put off by her apathy. It was a dynamic combination, potent and lethal.
As his eyes looked just passed hers, he noticed a thin scar that stretched out above her brow. He let himself look for just a second before peeling his eyes back to watch the road.
"Sorry," she laughed nervously. "I made it heavy in here."
He smirked, "It's all good."
"I'm just assuming you already know all about my life," Peyton outed him casually.
Brian nodded.
"You and Jimmy are close, huh?" Peyton asked curiously, finding a soft spot for any man that loved her Wiley like she did.
"The closest," Brian smiled fondly. "He's been like my brother since we were kids."
"You know what you are, right?" Peyton asked quickly.
Brian faltered, "What am I?"
"My replacement," she grinned mischievously.
He laughed shallowly, "Oh, fuck off!"
"I graciously stepped aside so that you and Jimmy could form some weird bromance," Peyton teased coolly. "So...You're welcome, I guess."
Brian was amused by the way her humor would flicker and change at any given moment. As she spoke, he was nearly convinced it was Jimmy he was talking to. They'd grown up together, so Brian figured it only made sense that they'd be similar. Another reason, he noted, to get a grip on those surging feels. But her laugh only brought elation to his mind, his ears clinging onto the sound like sunlight through the clouds.
"He's a lot of work," Brian retorted playfully. "You can just have him back."
"No, no," Peyton shook her head, raising her hands a bit. "I put in my time."
He grinned over at her, "We could share the load."
"I think that's probably best," she grinned back.
Brian laughed, turning his attention downward to the pack of red Marloboros sitting pretty in his center console. He grabbed the pack without thinking, pulling one from the group and tucking it neatly between his lips.
"Oh fuck," he grumbled, turning to Peyton. "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"
She shook her head, "You do whatever, man. I'm just here for the ride."
He smirked, tilting the pack over to her in offering.
She didn't typically smoke--not that she never had. She indulged like the best of them, pulling in any and all vices when the mood would strike just right. But she'd never made a habit of the ash tongue urge.
The way Brian looked extending anything to her was appealing enough that she snatched a filtered smoke from the pack. He reached over and sparked a flame for her; she leaned into it without a second thought.
Cracking the window, Brian lit his own cigarette and then tossed the light back down to the middle. He hadn't anticipated carrying company back home that night, but he was pleased Jimmy had acted like a such shit. He was stealing moments from his best friend, guilt-free. This ride was entirely funded by Jimmy's nonsensical bullshit, Brian figured. No reason he shouldn't enjoy it...just a little.
"So how'd you get started drawing?" Brian asked with his lungs full of black smoke. "You're really fucking good, by the way."
"Thanks," Peyton smiled, taking a small puff from the smoke. "It's a long story though, you don't want to get into that."
Brian smiled over at her, feeling like that's all he'd done since the second they climbed into the car, "I've got time."

Notes

Breyton?

xx