Trashed and Scattered

The thick of awkwardness had sunk its claws into the strangest trio known to man. As Jimmy sank his fangs into a stack of pancakes, Brian couldn’t take his eyes off the emerald eyed woman sat across from him, mindlessly drinking her coffee. She’d been mostly quiet since they’d sat down nearly thirty minutes ago, but that only made her more appealing. He’d been entirely caught off guard that morning when she’d opened the door to reveal herself free of pigmentation and free of expectation. She was just as breathtaking then as she was now; with black eyeliner winged at the edges of those pesky windows to her soul.
Jimmy was rattling off his newfound theories around simulated existence; citing an article he’d stumbled on while waiting to see his eye doctor.
“Because I’m a fucking bat,” he’d added with a mouthful of syrup.
Peyton had taken it upon herself to yawn then, pointing to Jim with her cup of steaming java, “Bats don’t wear glasses.”
“But they’re blind,” Jimmy insisted.
Peyton nodded, glancing quickly at Brian with amusement, “The blind don’t wear glasses either.”
“Oh fuck,” Jimmy gasped, eyes wide in horror.
Peyton snickered, shaking her head softly as she sank back into her drink, scientifically proven to rid of all morning goblin tendencies. Brian grinned at his friend, watching as he mulled over the revelation like he’d just learned he was adopted.
Brian was shocked to find Jimmy fall into a coma of silence, looking painfully reflective as he chewed at his breakfast. The bags forming beneath his blue eyes were a dead giveaway that the all-night party they’d embarked on was starting to take its toll. Brian, however, was feeling oddly revived.
“You managed to shut him up,” Brian gasped with a grin.
Peyton shrugged, setting her cup down long enough to refill it with the carafe balanced at the edge of the table. She’d already emptied one and was halfway through the second. She’d made peace with the inevitable ulcers she’d face in old age, deciding in the present that coffee was well worth the toll it would take on her body in time.
“It’s a skill—nay, an art—that is learned over time,” she told him without a hint of humor.
“I’ve been working on it for twelve fuckin’ years,” Brian laughed sharply, sliding his cup closer to her in hopes she’d fill his void, too.
Her eyes met his and he felt her amusement blossom into something palpable.
She smirked, “Maybe I’m just a better artist.”
“Or he likes you more,” Brian rebutted playfully, glancing up at his drummer for reaction but finding nothing. “He definitely likes you more.”
Peyton groaned, “Great.”
“Yep,” Brian laughed. “That makes him your problem.”
“No thank you,” Peyton chuckled, tossing back another cup full of life. “He’s gotten only more obnoxious over time, it’s something that I’ll have to work into.”
Brian smiled, “That could take a while.”
She raised her mug to him, tilting her head over so slightly with the narrowing of her dazzling eyes, “I’ve got time.”
“What about those black glasses?” Jimmy piped up excitedly. “Haven’t you seen Robin Hood, Peyton? He wears glasses when he’s blind!”
“He isn’t actually blind,” Peyton informed her friend casually. “And that’s a fucking cartoon, Jimmy.”
Jimmy sighed, sinking down into the booth with utmost theatrics. Brian just laughed, scraping the last of his eggs off the plate and into his mouth. Peyton’s eyes wandered to Jimmy’s phone, which she reached over and hit a button to, illuminating the screen.
“How is it only ten o’clock?” Peyton asked with a hint of a whine.
Jimmy scowled, “Don’t manhandle my phone, man.”
“Don’t call me man, man,” Peyton countered.
“What if I had it set to self-destruct mode and you just went ahead and blew us the fuck up? What then, Peyton? What then?”
She shrugged, her face completely void of emotion, “Then we’d blow up.”
Brian smiled as his lanky friend erupted into laughter, pointing in her direction as he struggled to work up another implausible scenario designed to scold her for being so bold. The two were definitely old friends, there was no denying that. They bickered and bantered like the best of them; but a bit like an old married couple, which was the piece of it all that made Brian writhe with envy.
He’d never had such an effortless relationship with a woman. Every relationship he’d encountered had stemmed from nothing short of lust; and had ended on about the same terms. It must be nice, he thought, to have someone with an alternate perspective. Jimmy was lucky, Brian knew. But Jimmy was determinedly an idiot, wasting his friendship that could clearly have grown into something more.
His loss was Brian’s gain.
“So,” Peyton sighed, “since you’re obviously not an evil genius and you’re,” she pointed at Brian, “obviously not a very good accomplice. I’m curious; don’t you guys work?”
Jimmy scoffed.
“We have a day pass,” Brian smirked.
“A day pass,” Peyton mimicked flatly.
Brian nodded, “We don’t always have to be in the studio together. Today is one of those times…that we don’t.”
“I just didn’t feel like it,” Jimmy grinned.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Brian informed Jimmy’s female counterpart. “He’s just trying to sound cool to impress you. The others didn’t want him there. He’s fucking loud.”
Jimmy gasped from the heartbreak.
“He is loud,” Peyton nodded in agreement.
“Maybe you guys just have supersonic hearing,” Jimmy stated. “You’re just too sensitive.”
“That’s me,” Peyton grinned. “Miss Sensitivity.”
Jimmy smirked, “Okay, maybe not you…But Syn here is the epitome of sensitivity.”
Peyton was amused, looking to Brian for confirmation or denial. She was pleased to be met with the world’s biggest frown, made only more convincing by the dark doe eyes looking back at her.
“It’s true,” Brian sniffled. “I just have…a lot of feelings.”
“There, there, big guy,” Jimmy consoled his guitarist, patting him on the back with a dull thud.
Brian fanned at himself, “Sorry, I just need a minute. I’m so embarrassed.”
Peyton giggled, admiring the dynamic between the two men sharing the bench across from her. Brian assured his tall friend that he was alright as he dove back into the coffee. Jimmy shot her a grin, scrunching his coyote face just enough to make her blush.
“Anyway,” Brian huffed, moving passed his pseudo dramatics. “We’re off today. What about you? Are you working while you’re here?”
“Mm,” Peyton hummed, holding up a finger as she finished chewing the mouthful of pancakes she’d just taken the opportunity to shovel into her mouth. “No, not really.”
“That was a lot of build up for very little effect,” Jimmy told her passively.
She rolled her eyes, “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” Jimmy grunted.
Peyton pointed to him with her thumb, staring dead into Brian’s soul, “He’s frustrating.”
Brian laughed, “Yes.”
“I did that convention,” Peyton elaborated after a brief silence had fallen between the trio. “And your little tattoo party…But other than that, I don’t have much in the works. Just a ton of house renos.”
“House renos?” Brian caught with curiosity.
The very origin of Peyton’s return to California eluded Brian. He’d been curious about her arrival and curious about her duration. Jimmy had been vague about the entire thing, offering little in the way of explanation or theories. As far as they both knew, Peyton could be on the next flight out.
This mystery invoked a sense of urgency into both of the men; an urgency neither discussed with one another. Brian figured she was still attached to Jimmy like a limb, and so he’d have to proceed with caution. Jimmy, however, was walking a thin line between appropriate and life-altering connection. He wanted all of Peyton, but without sacrificing the life he’d spent several years building. It all felt as if it had an expiration date…but he wasn’t willing to make an abrupt decision.
Both men were unaware of their oxymoron lifestyles; panicked to get as much attention from Peyton as possible while simultaneously taking their sweet time to do so. To speed their cause would mean to have a serious conversation about it—something neither of which were willing to do. Not yet.
“Yeah, I’m fixing up my parents’ house,” Peyton answered simply.
Jimmy remained silent on the subject, understanding the depth of the situation but unwilling to voice his knowledge. Even if it would give him an apparent upper hand on the brunette pining for his affections. Jimmy reminded himself he had no right to be jealous.
In fact, if anyone was going to pursue Peyton, he thought there wasn’t anyone better than Brian. Brian was the best guy he knew, after all. But Brian had a bit of a track record with women that made Jimmy nervous—he didn’t need his best friend giving Peyton any more reasons to be weary of relationships.
And there was that pesky thought that he didn’t want Brian to date her. Not really. He wanted to date her. So began the hourly mental debate weighing the pros and cons of his relationship with Natalie.
“Big job?” Brian asked curiously. “It looks like a pretty big house from outside.”
Peyton nodded, “It’s a pretty big job, yeah. I guess that just means I’ll have to find a way to be content in California for the next while.”
Brian couldn’t help but feel like the sentiment was a little pointed. He just wasn’t sure in which direction it was pointed. He hoped it was straight across the table; and judging by the path of her gaze, that’s exactly what she’d intended.
“You’re artistic,” he noted. “So, it should be fun to do renovations, right?”
She scoffed, shaking her head, “I don’t know why everyone makes that jump. Drawing monsters and women hardly translates into a love for labor. I hate painting walls; maybe more than I hate ripping down wallpaper.”
“Fair, fair,” Brian relented, feeling a little silly for making an incorrect assumption. “If you ever need any help, I’m pretty handy.”
“No, you’re not,” Jimmy snarled playfully.
Brian glared at his best friend, “I’m way handier than you are, Rev. Remember that time you were supposed to help Matt change the lights in his kitchen?”
Jimmy opened his mouth wide to rebut but quickly fell grim with realization.
Brian grinned, “Uh-huh.”
Peyton was wildly intrigued, “What happened with Matt’s lights?”
Jimmy shook his head.
But Brian was keen to poise himself as a man’s man; someone dependable. As if being able to change a light fixture would somehow earn Peyton’s attention. For the moment, he noted, it had.
“Jimmy connected the wires in a way that only Jimmy could,” Brian explained, stealing glances at his friend who was sat with a permanent cringe on his face. “So when Matt flicked the power back on…”
Jimmy made an explosion with his hands; adding the sound effects in for good measure.
“No,” Peyton breathed.
“Oh yeah,” Brian and Jimmy said together before bursting into laughter.
Peyton smiled widely, endlessly entertained by the visual.
“Jimmy’s been officially banned from anything electrical,” Brian added with a chuckle.
“Whatever, man,” Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe Matt should change his own fuckin’ lights. How about that?”
Brian nodded, “Sure, Jim. That’s the problem with that story.”
Jimmy smiled triumphantly.
“That’s maybe the best thing I’ve ever heard,” Peyton smirked, pushing her plate away as if its very existence repulsed her.
Brian was eying up her half-eaten pancakes like they were naked and begging to bed him. Peyton furrowed her brows at him, watching as he inspected each and every inch of them.
“Are you starving or something?” she finally asked, amusement caught in her teeth.
He laughed, his cheeks colouring, “They just look good. I should have ordered pancakes.”
“Power to you,” she smiled, sliding the plate across the table and under Brian’s lustful gaze. “Assuming you’re not weirded out by eating other people’s food.”
“Not at all,” he smirked, diving into the stack immediately.
He absolutely was. Jimmy was on the verge of calling him out for it—but Brian seemed to have gotten over the hurdle real quick, so Jimmy resisted. Brian had put a toenail in his mouth once…but he’d been high as a kite for that whole ordeal. Nevertheless, Jimmy found a bit of pleasure in the smile on Peyton’s face; regardless of who had put it there.
“So, what other Jimmy stories do you have for me?” Peyton asked, leaning her elbows onto the table and resting her head atop her hands. “Fill me in on the last thirteen years.”
Brian smirked, swallowing down Peyton’s scraps, “Where do I start?”
“The beginning,” Peyton grinned. “No! Start recent and work your way back. No! Prioritize! Shit, I don’t know.”
“I’ve got a good one,” Brian smiled fondly. “We were…fuck, we must have been fourteen. We were little shits, I should add. We’re still kind of shits, I guess. Some of us more than others. Anyway…”
Jimmy watched as Brian recounted a story about their youth, taking particular note of the way Peyton seemed to hang off every word he said. She was amused, sure…but more than that she was…Jimmy couldn’t quite place it. Enamored was the word that sprang to mind but he dutifully turned it away. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but notice just how much joy Peyton seemed to get from Brian’s wit. He hadn’t seen Brian at such ease around a woman in…ever.
Although the story included him, Jimmy felt it had somehow become a revolutionary tale of Brian Haner. And Peyton didn’t seem to mind.
It pained him to watch as the two obviously began to form some sort of bond. He wasn’t sure yet whether it was innocent but had to continuously remind himself that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t his place to interject or to object at all. He’d made his bed—so why was he so damn reluctant to lay in it?
The sound of Peyton’s laugh, mixed expertly by the glimmer in her eyes, told Jimmy everything he needed to know. If he cared for her at all, which he was sure had never been the issue, he had to let her live. He had to let her love. And if he was unwilling to devote himself to her; unable to get lost in the sea of green at the forefront of her person…He had to let her go.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Jimmy interjected with a stretch of his arms. “But let me the fuck out.”
Brian doubled back in surprise, “What?”
“Move,” Jimmy laughed lightly, shoving at his best friend.
“We’re not done,” Brian informed Jimmy oddly.
Jimmy nodded, “I know that. I’m visually challenged but not blind—because if I was blind, apparently I wouldn’t need glasses.”
Peyton snickered.
“But I feel like I just got hit by a freight train,” Jimmy explained simply. “So I’m going to bed.”
“But you drove us here,” Brian said flatly.
Jimmy chuckled, “You have feet, don’t you, Haner?”
Brian looked to Peyton for some sort of assistance. He was surprised to see her smile.
“We can walk,” she assured Brian.
Jimmy refused to admit that her acceptance of his departure didn’t seriously bruise his ego. Brian shrugged his shoulders, side-stepping out from the booth to let Jimmy crawl out. When he climbed to his feet, Peyton couldn’t help but giggle at the height difference between the two men.
“I’ll swing by later for your infamous midnight coffee,” Jimmy told Peyton with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
She smirked, “I’ll put the pot on at quarter to.”
He nodded, giving one last accusing scowl before taking his leave, “Behave yourselves.”
Jimmy departed feeling both sick and rueful. But there were sparks flying and he was afraid he might get burned. He’d been banned from all things electrical, after all. He decided then to leave it up to fate; if he and Peyton were destined the way he found himself believing they were, they’d find their way to one another.
In the meantime, his indecision shouldn’t cost Peyton new experiences. It shouldn’t cost her the ability to be carefree and limitless. He did as he’d said and the second that he’d gotten home to his parents’ white house, he climbed into bed.
Brian sank back down into the booth, wondering to himself if he should mention the weirdness of Jimmy’s sudden departure. But Jimmy was always doing weird shit; Brian decided to chalk it up to just another Rev-ism.
“Slide that over here,” Peyton smiled, snatching an edge of the plate. “I’m getting jealous that you’re eating my pancakes. It’s making me hungry all over again.”
Brian smirked, meeting her halfway as they both stabbed at the stack from different angles.
The waiter appeared just as Brian worked to finish his story.
“More coffee?” the lanky man asked.
Brian and Peyton didn’t bother to look up, despite how rude they knew it made them look.
“Yes,” they said in unison.
With a fresh carafe off coffee to boost their tired souls and a hilarious tale of Jimmy’s antics to bridge the awkward gap left by the drummer’s departure, Peyton and Brian holed themselves up in that booth for another hour. Only once they’d finished off every last crumb of Peyton’s pancakes did they dare to consider venturing out into the big bad world.
“You know,” Brian noted as he quietly paid the bill and followed Peyton to the exit, his hand on her back as he nearly ran into the back of her. “You are more interesting once you’ve had coffee.”
She grinned, pulling her sunglasses down to shield her eyes from the sun, her skin tingling beneath Brian’s fingertips, “I’m always interesting.”
“Well where would you like to go and be interesting at next?” he asked with a half-laugh.
She considered being cutesy and offering up some line. Anywhere with you would be interesting enough would probably do the trick. But blatant bullshit wasn’t typically up to Peyton’s standard.
“I was told we’d be going to the beach,” she informed him daringly, admiring his cheek bones as he set his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose.
He smiled, “Then the beach it is.”

Notes

xx