Trashed and Scattered

“Behind you,” Peyton declared, sliding around the lanky drummer to snatch her travel mug from the stream of coffee Jimmy had just finished pouring.
He reached over her arm, restoring the pot onto the burner as she smoothly dumped a dollop of cream into his brew. They separated quickly, each screwing the lids of their respective cups before splitting into different directions to gather up their things.
“I’ll be back at three to meet my floor people,” she smiled, scrounging up her pencils into their case.
Jimmy moved his eyes around, glancing through his mental calendar, “Okay, yeah…I should be back by four.”
“Don’t rush on my account,” she insisted. “I can always take the window route in.”
He laughed, “Don’t be dumb.”
“I mean it,” she smirked, turning around to face him as he pulled the last of his notes together. “Don’t rush out of the studio just to come let my homeless ass in.”
He shrugged his lanky shoulders, “I’m super fast, Lex. Crazy fast. I can be in and out within the hour.”
She cocked a lazy brow, sipping from the cup in her hand, “And yet, you’ll be gone until four.”
“It’s too early,” he groaned. “Way too early for you to be antagonizing me.”
“Sorry,” she half-laughed, tossing her pencils into her bag and pulling it atop her shoulder. “I really have to go.”
Jimmy nodded, “Well let’s go then.”
The pair fell into step as they made their way through the house, lingering at the door as Jimmy slid the key into the lock. It had been four days since Peyton’s house had been broken into and three days since the windows had been replaced. Peyton had tried to spend a night alone inside those haunted walls but the overwhelming paranoia had sunk into her skin with rapidity. She’d delegated some of the workload to professionals, desperate to speed the process and be rid of the horrific property. Dan was happy was to spend a little extra in an effort to aid Peyton’s labor.
Jimmy had happily taken her in for whatever undetermined amount of time she required. With his parents on their getaway and Natalie’s existence occupying his home, he didn’t mind the company. Peyton had spent the previous night with him, perusing the local ads for apartments in town. Only one had caught his attention but he’d made absolutely no effort to set up a viewing.
Peyton went ahead and scheduled it for him.
“Have a good day being artistic and shit,” Jimmy grinned, waving sheepishly at the brunette as they parted ways along the curb.
She laughed, “Have a good day being musical and shit.”
“I always do!”
Her smile lingering, she climbed into her rental and tossed her bag carelessly atop the passenger seat. She waited until Jimmy had pulled away, learning the hard way not to try and lead their mini conga line down the road. The man had a seriously heavy foot—one he’d inherited from years of kicking at a drum, she’d figured.
The radio bored her nearly to death as she made the short drive to Jonas’ shop. They were talking about the weather and the market set to take over Main Street that night at dusk. She had half a mind to ask Jimmy to take her down to investigate, given that she hadn’t been to the market since her youth.
She pulled into the lot just after ten, grumbling to herself with exhaustion as she hauled herself out from the still car. With one smooth motion, she pulled her bag over her shoulder and kicked the car door shut. The bell hanging above the door jingled with excitement as she pushed herself into the shop.
“Morning, Sunshine!” Jonas greeted her happily.
She scowled, “Stop that.”
“You’re so damn peachy in the morning,” he fake swooned. “You’ll make someone a very lucky husband some day.”
Peyton rolled her eyes, fighting the grin that threatened to spread across her features. She plunked down into her chair and let it swivel around.
“What’s on the docket for today?” Jonas asked curiously, watching the brunette turn in the world’s slowest circle.
She shrugged with a sigh, “Some florals. A butterfly. You know, the shit I paid thousands of dollars to refine my skills in.”
He laughed, “You left the Big Apple to come to California and draw happy bullshit onto tanned women. You’re living the dream, Winchester!”
“Aren’t I, though?” she snickered. “What about you? If you say something cool like a demon ripping a corpse from the underworld, I swear to god I’ll straight lose my mind.”
Jonas cackled, “What? No. But I kind of want to see that now…”
“I’ve got you covered,” she nodded. “Just as soon as I get around to buying myself a new sketchbook.”
“You still haven’t done that?” he gasped. “What kind of artist are you, Pey?”
She groaned, “A tortured one. They’re all the rage, haven’t you heard?”
“What’s the hold up?”
Peyton sipped at her coffee, planting her foot onto the floor to give herself one more forceful twirl within her chair, “I’m still in denial.”
Jonas smiled, crossing the small shop and placing his hand firm against the back of Peyton’s spinning chair, “Well, snap out of it.”
“I was spinning,” she told him sadly.
He nodded, “I know. But now you’re still.”
She narrowed her eyes up at him, “You’re so annoying in the morning.”
“I’m annoying all of the time,” he grinned. “You’re just irritable in the morning.”
Peyton sighed, “You and my best friend would get along swimmingly.”
“Is she hot?”
Peyton grimaced, pushing her foot against Jonas’ chest to kick him away with utmost care, “Go away. I have work to do.”
Jonas laughed, slinking back to his respective side of the room. The two fell into silence as they each got to work drafting and shading and reshaping their minds. Peyton was made up entirely of caffeine by that point, her hands buzzing with the high. Jimmy liked his coffee strong which Peyton had only just started to adjust to.
She busied herself with mindless tattooing, letting chipper women talk at her as she carved pigment into their skin. She’d nod and she’d smile and she’d hope they hadn’t asked a question because lord knows she hadn’t been listening. But just after two, her client list had run dry.
Peyton glanced over at Jonas, bored out of her mind. He’d been slaving away at a massive back piece and had only just finished his linework. She’d be on her own for the foreseeable future.
“I’m going for coffee,” she announced as she headed for the door. “Want anything?”
Jonas shook his head.
“Good talk,” she half-laughed, skipping out from the shop and into the world.
There was a tiny place around the corner that served the best brew Peyton had ever had. It was dark and dingy and smelled a bit like mold, but their coffee was such a treat that Peyton was willing to overlook the obvious health hazards.
With a brown cup of coffee in hand and the clock nearly run out for the day, Peyton returned back to the shop, determined to get a few more spins out of her chair before calling it a day. But as she pushed through the glass and heard the obnoxious bells ring out, Peyton was stunned.
“You have a client,” Jonas told her flatly without looking up from his work.
“H-Hey,” she stammered uncomfortably, taking unsure steps toward the doe eyed man staring back at her.
He smiled awkwardly, “Hey.”
Peyton set her coffee down, glancing around for the cavalry. Sensing that no armies were coming to her aid, she decided to pretend she was strong on her own.
“What’s up?”
Brian mustered up his own strength, “Well, I was thinking about a tree.”
Peyton’s eyebrows furrowed, “A tree?”
“A spooky tree,” he nodded, a friendly smile daring to break her of her unease.
Against her will, she laughed, “Right.”
“Any chance you’re willing to draw something up for me?”
Peyton smiled, “Of course…”
She considered confessing that she’d already slaved over a design for his arm. She wanted to tell him that she’d devoted seven long hours to each limb of the tree, pouring herself over each scratch of her pencil and every smear of shadow.
But…then she’d have to explain that her house had been broken into. And then she’d have to try and muster up some sort of explanation for why the burglars had taken her sketchbook. This was a question she still hadn’t worked out an answer to. It certainly held no monetary value. Brian would surely worry and then she’d have to reassure him that she’d been staying with Jimmy.
None of these scenarios sounded like the epitome of fun to Peyton, so she bit at her tongue until it bled.
“Cool,” Brian nodded, taking an awkward half step backward toward the door.
“You came all the way down here to ask me that?” Peyton challenged lightly.
He shrugged, “I was in the neighborhood.”
“You were in Fountain Valley?” Peyton smirked.
Brian caved, smiling a little, “I wanted to see you.”
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested bravely. “We can talk about this tree.”
He nodded, “Sure.”
Snatching her coffee back into her palm, Peyton lead Brian quickly to the door. She called a half-hearted farewell to Jonas, who mostly blew her off. Once they were clouded in the fresh outdoors, the estranged lovers fell into a shameful silence. Neither was eager to break it first, so Peyton sipped at her coffee and Brian chewed on his thoughts.
Brian was the first to break, “So, um…How have you been?”
“Good,” Peyton answered, drawing out the vowels to eat up more time.
He nodded, “Good…Good.”
“What, uh…What about you?”
“Same,” he smiled politely. “Good.”
Muttering mostly to herself, Peyton nodded, “Good…”
Peyton had once found it so easy to talk to Brian. Even as strangers, they’d never gotten caught in the cyclone of awkward small talk. They’d been open and personable with each other since they’d met—and yet, they couldn’t seem to work out how to get passed the pleasantries.
Peyton couldn’t help but wonder what had changed. Sure, the weekend at Big Bear had been a wild mistake. But Jimmy had wronged her far more severely than Brian ever had…It disheartened her to find that the revelation did nothing to work against the disconnect from the guitarist she felt. What was once a magnetic field pulling her into his muscled arms was now stagnant and emptied.
What had changed?
“Look,” he finally breathed, “I’m so sorry for that shitty fucking weekend. I’ve been feeling like a total asshole since it happened…”
Peyton smiled, “It’s all good, Brian.”
“I said a lot of shit that I shouldn’t have said,” he frowned. “And I should have gone after you…I should have taken you home.”
“Brian,” she cut off. “I’m serious, it’s fine. I really…I don’t want to talk about it…Like, at all.”
He sighed, doing his best to analyze her for sincerity. It was always impossible to tell when Peyton was being honest or deceitful. But the smile hanging along her lips offered acceptance.
“Can we start over?” he asked, hope ringing through his voice.
She let her green eyes settle over him, “I’d like that.”
“Cool,” he breathed with relief.
“So, this tree,” she moved along quickly. “What are you thinking?”
As they got into a long-winded discussion about the look and the feel of Brian’s existing tattoos and the options for something that might fit in with expertise, the tension slowly slipped itself away. They fell into step with the friendship they’d been conjuring before everything had gone sideways. There was no talk of Jimmy and no talk of Natalie—the two subjects that seemed to spark the most theatrical of resentment.
They walked the block a dozen times, Peyton downing her coffee and Brian draining his cigarettes. By time they’d landed outside the door to Jonas’ shop, they were teasing one another as if nothing had ever gone awry.
“So, tell me, Brian,” Peyton eased, letting her infectious laughter ween into a smile. “Shouldn’t you be at work today?”
He shrugged, “I had more important shit to do.”
“Like what?”
“The apology tour,” he half-laughed. “You were the first stop.”
She beamed up at him, “I appreciate it.”
He took a deep breath, “Next is Jimmy…and then the rest of my stupid friends.”
“They’ll be fine,” Peyton waved. “Sometimes men do stupid things.”
He chuckled, “Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m sure Jimmy’s looking to make an apology or two himself,” Peyton smiled lightly.
Brian nodded, his eyes dancing around the California sun, “Yeah…It’s not really me that’s owed the apology though.”
“Brian?” Peyton dared. “Why did Jimmy hit you? You never really told me…you know, explicitly.”
He pursed his lips, reluctant to spill his bragging onto Peyton’s ears. The way he’d handled the situation was humiliating and he was hesitant to share the shame.
“Oh, just tell me,” she groaned playfully.
“I kind of, uh,” he paused, rubbing at the back of his neck, “shoved it in Jimmy’s face that we’d hooked up…He didn’t like that.”
Peyton couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, “How classy.”
“I fucking know,” Brian whined, running his hands through his hair. “Not my finest hour.”
She shrugged, nudging him lightly with her elbow, “We’ve all done some rough shit. Jimmy’s a big boy, he’ll get over it…if he hasn’t already.”
“I’ve been avoiding him,” Brian mumbled. “Which is admittedly pretty hard to do. The guy is crazy overbearing.”
Peyton snickered, “He is.”
A comfortable lull fell between them as they each retreated into their own respective fondness for the lanky drummer.
“I should get going,” Brian said slowly. “But I’ll come pester you for that tattoo sometime.”
Peyton nodded, “I’ll have it done by Friday if you wanted to swing by this weekend. I’m wide open.”
He smiled, “Sure, Peyton. I’ll text you. We’ll sort it out.”
“I hope you do,” she smirked. “Thanks for coming by.”
“Thanks for not decking me,” he laughed, taking one last opportunity to look her over before reluctantly stepping away. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She smiled, waving awkwardly as she forced herself from his gaze and back in through the glass door. Jonas had freed himself up and had taken it upon himself to position himself cross-legged in his chair. With his hands folded meticulously in his lap, he stared straight into her soul. A devious grin tugged at the corners of his lips.
“And where have you been, Miss Winchester?”
Peyton rolled her eyes, giving her head a shake, “Are you trying to be a villain or something?”
“Why? Because I’m cross-legged?”
“Yes,” she laughed, heading straight for her station to begin dismantling it.
He shrugged, “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just curious about your whereabouts and find sitting cross-legged comfortable.”
“No one finds it comfortable,” she argued playfully.
“So, which one was that? Lover Boy A or Lover Boy B?”
Peyton cast a warning glare over at her friend.
He laughed, “He wasn’t very tall, so I’m going to lean toward B. Was that the infamous Brian?”
“Don’t say his name like that,” Peyton cringed.
“What, Brian?” Jonas smirked, pulling each letter of Brian’s name into song like sound.
Peyton nodded, scrounging up her belongings as fast as humanly possible to avoid having to endure the conversation Jonas was curiously leading into.
“But he’s your lover,” Jonas lamented.
“Stop it,” she instructed. “I’m leaving.”
He laughed, letting his legs fall out from their pretzeled placement, “You’re a real buzzkill.”
“And you’re annoying,” she countered fondly. “See you in the morning.”
He folded his arms across his chest, “Whatever.”
“Bye, Jonas!” Peyton called over her shoulder as she swiftly made her way out into the street.
By time she returned home, the workers had just rolled up ready to install new laminate flooring. She unlatched the door, granting them access to the home. With a quick tour out of the way, Peyton excused herself to the afternoon sky. The house felt somehow suffocating now and she found herself looking for any and all reasons not to be inside.
But the best excuse of all pulled up in his black car, shrieking loudly at her as his tall frame towered over the metal.
“It’s not even four!” Peyton called to him, surprised by the genuine elation that rushed through her system as he bounded over her way.
With an arm slung around her shoulders, Jimmy smiled, “I told you, I’m super fast.”
“Slacker,” she teased, letting him drag her across the property line to a world where things felt safer.
“I had more important shit waiting at home,” he told her fondly. “And I’m dragging you to the market downtown tonight. So…go take your little cat nap.”
Touched that he’d read her mind, Peyton allowed herself to swoon for one second and one second only. And then she meandered her way upstairs, out of Jimmy’s reach, and forced herself into an afternoon slumber. The sounds of Jimmy’s rustling in the next room had her at such peace, Peyton had never felt so damn relaxed. It was then that she realized what had changed with Brian.
She had changed. Her feelings had changed.
For a quick second before her mind gave out, Peyton found herself imagining her future. A future that was wrapped up in Jimmy—and only Jimmy.

Notes

Hmm...Is that it for the triangle? Will Brian sway Peyton's heart? Has too much happened? Hm.

xx