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Trashed and Scattered

Chapter Seventy-Two: My Girl, Where Will You Go

“We need to stop drinking on weeknights,” Peyton groaned, rubbing her thumbs strategically against her temples.
She was slumped over her cup of coffee, her brown locks dangling against the table in a haphazard and hungover mess. Jimmy sunk into the chair next to her, smiling sympathetically as Peyton neared death.
“I have this massive fucking piece to do today,” she grumbled despondently. “How the fuck am I going to summon the focus for that? Can we sacrifice a virgin or something?”
Jimmy nodded, “Sure.”
Peyton laughed, “I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
“I’ll do you one better than a virgin sacrifice,” Jimmy smiled. “Tonight, let’s just chill the fuck out. We can watch a movie or we can go for a walk or—“
“Oh!” Peyton caught, snapping up and into the world. “We should go down and see the sunset! I haven’t seen it from the beach since I got here!”
Jimmy was instantly enthralled by the romanticism of her suggestion. He’d been trying and failing to work out where Peyton’s head was at when it came to all things related to him. She was difficult to read at the best of times. But he was sure they’d shared a moment last night—a moment that seemed somehow more meaningful than the night of intimacy they’d shared. In his true idiotic form, though, he’d ruined it. He wasn’t sure trotting down the alley of Peyton was such a good move. There was little use getting his heart attached, he figured.
If she was leaving, he’d move on too.
“It’s a date,” he winked lazily.
She grinned, climbing to her feet and downing the rest of her mug before carefully dumping it into the sink.
The first night back in her own home had been a success. Jimmy had insisted he stick around—just in case. Peyton didn’t consider arguing; she’d grown accustomed to having Jimmy by her side. To sleep within any confines without his presence down the hall seemed somehow scary to her now.
“I forgot my book upstairs,” she huffed. “I’ll be back.”
Jimmy smirked, “This is why you’re always late. You’re forgetful as fuck.”
Peyton snickered, “It’s probably from all the head trauma. Either way, kind of the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes at her, which only made her laugh harder. As she skipped around the corner and out of sight, her cell phone began to chime away. As the music filled the kitchen with its insistence, Jimmy grew bothered quickly. In one fluid motion, he crossed the floor and slipped his fingers against the silencer. He made a mental note to badger Peyton into rocking silent mode for the sake of his sanity. But, before he could remove himself innocently, he glanced down at the little blue screen in its lit glory.
Brian
Jimmy’s breathing rocked to a stop. Peyton hadn’t mentioned Brian apart from her use of his name as some bridge in conversation. Jimmy wasn’t sure where Breyton had found itself but he knew he wasn’t pleased to find his best friends name blowing up Peyton’s cell first thing in the morning. The jealousy, he knew, meant everything.
Jimmy removed himself from the catalyst, his morning effectively ruined. He dumped his coffee into the sink and skittered out through the front door without muttering a single word to the brunette upstairs. Only once he hit the freeway did the tiniest ripple of guilt trickle down. He promptly swatted it away, resolving to his jealousy. He’d been stuck in between Peyton and Brian one too many times and he wasn’t keen to repeat it. Even if it meant distancing himself from the artist.
“Hey, Jim,” Matt waved sheepishly as Jimmy dragged his feet into the studio.
He grumbled something of a response, retreating to the kitchenette to fix himself another dose of caffeine.
“Morning,” Brian grumbled from somewhere behind the drummer.
Jimmy scowled over his shoulder at his best friend, annoyed to find the guitarist well rested and alert. Things had been tense between them, for reasons known to both. Brian had halfheartedly apologized for rubbing his antics with Peyton in Jimmy’s face—and Jimmy had halfheartedly accepted. It hadn’t done much to resolve the tension though.
Brian stepped in place beside his friend, smiling politely as he pulled a mug from the shelf. Jimmy wasn’t so spiteful to take all the coffee for himself—but he wasn’t about to offer a peace treaty either. He slid the coffee pot back against the burner and quickly made for the exit. Brian half-laughed, giving his head a shake at the adorable attempt at pettiness.
“I’m going for a smoke,” Brian called to the lanky man attempting to flee. “You should meet me out there, man.”
“I’m good,” Jimmy called back.
Brian sighed, “Jim, we’ve been friends for a long time. Isn’t that worth one fuckin’ cigarette?”
“God damn guilt trips,” Jimmy grumbled to himself before rolling his eyes and raising his voice to an audible level. “Fine.”
The drummer pushed his body against the door as he grumpily made his way back through the building. Armed with coffee, he figured he had a better shot at a good mood than he’d had after Peyton’s phone went off. As he tapped his fingers against the metal arms of the patio chair, Jimmy found himself trying to rationalize his feelings. He didn’t get very far before Brian was slumped in the chair across from him with a cigarette tucked between his teeth.
“Where’ve you been lately, man?” Brian asked coolly.
Jimmy shrugged.
“Everything’s been okay?” the guitarist pressed.
Jimmy sighed, “Yes, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
“Speaking of mom,” Brian eased, doing his best to rein in his frustrations. “You still staying at Casa Sullivan?”
Jimmy nodded, “For the most part.”
“You know you can always come crash at my place,” Brian suggested weakly.
His friend furrowed his brows, “With all the shit going on? Probably not, dude.”
“What shit?” Brian asked.
Jimmy cocked an eyebrow, pulling a cigarette from Brian’s pack and placing it between his lips, “The ongoing Peyton problem.”
Brian sighed, “Jim...the only one with a problem is you.”
“Maybe so,” he shrugged, lighting the end of his cigarette before slumping against the back of the chair. “But it’s a fucking problem nonetheless.”
“What’s going on, Jimmy?” Brian pressed. “I don’t want you to fuckin’ hate me. Is that what this is?”
Jimmy shook his head, “No, I don’t hate you. I just really, really don’t like you right now.”
Brian frowned, “After thirteen years of friendship, you’re willing to let it go over some fucking girl?”
Jimmy grit his teeth, “It isn’t just some fucking girl, is it.”
“I don’t know, big guy,” Brian challenged knowingly. “You tell me.”
“Are you two still fucking around?” Jimmy breezed forward.
Brian laughed.
“Dude, I’m serious,” he insisted.
The doe eyed man let his defenses slide, giving his best friend the sympathy he so desperately needed. It was typical of Jimmy to be so enamored—and so damn blind to it simultaneously.
“No,” Brian answered simply. “We haven’t really talked much since...you know, Big Bear.”
Jimmy scoffed.
“I’m headed to see her today though,” Brian followed up quickly. “To finish this sleeve.”
The drummer nodded, unsure what else to do with himself.
“Jimmy,” Brian breathed. “Look...I’m sorry I went after her. I shouldn’t have; I know that now. I just thought, you know, you had Natalie and you told me it was fine—“
“It was fine,” Jimmy grunted. “I don’t want to talk about this. Especially not at ten in the fucking morning.”
“Yeah,” his best friend grumbled. “Except that you don’t return any of my fucking calls, you’ve been avoiding me like the god damn plague...I tried to apologize for the whole Peyton thing, but—“
Jimmy exploded, “I don’t want to fucking talk about it!”
Brian mashed his cigarette against the ash tray floor, “Too fucking bad, Jimmy! We’re talking about it! I’m not letting some girl ruin our friendship!”
“If you call her ‘some girl’ one more fucking time, Brian,” Jimmy growled. “I swear, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Brian shook his head, “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
Jimmy scowled, letting the nicotine wash through his system.
“I guess that means we’re fucked,” Brian concluded solemnly.
The drummer rolled his eyes, leaning across the table to flick the ash from his smoke, "What are you talking about?"
“Why the fuck did you tell me it was fine to go after her?” Brian asked helplessly.
Jimmy shrugged, “Because.”
Jim,” the guitarist pressed.
“I don’t know,” Jimmy groaned. “Because I’m an idiot. I thought I could handle it.”
Brian eyed his best friend, “You could have just told me it was a problem. I would have fucking laid off.”
“It’s none of my business who you put your dick in,” Jimmy informed his friend. “If Peyton wanted you, who was I to stand in the way.”
Brian hesitated, weighing his options carefully before proceeding.
“That’s the thing, man,” Brian said carefully. “I’m not sure she did...want me...”
Jimmy furrowed his brows together, “Could have fooled me.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might have just been a sub?” Brian suggested like it should have been obvious. “We’ve been best friends forever...Ever think maybe I just remind Peyton of you? Maybe it has more to do with Peyton wanting you than wanting me?”
Jimmy shut that down immediately, “No.”
“You know, when you aren’t drowning in fucking denial, it makes total sense,” Brian spoke. “You...You fucking worshiped her for most of the time I’ve known you...She was your first love, man. It’s kind of reasonable to still love her.”
Jimmy shook his head, unable to verbalize any of the thoughts swimming around in his skull like sociopathic fish.
“You guys make sense,” Brian continued. “And she seems...mesmerized by you. It should have been my first fuckin' clue that I should have stayed away.”
Jimmy sighed, flicking his cigarette down to the pavement.
“You’re way off base, dude,” he said quietly. “We’re just friends.”
Brian nodded, “But why?”
Jimmy laughed oddly, tilting his head, “What do you mean, why?”
“Is it because the feelings aren’t there?” Brian asked flatly. “Or because she’s leaving? Because of Natalie? Because you're so deep in denial that you don't understand what's happening? Why are you two just friends?”
Jimmy mulled the question over in his mind. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d been harboring sincere feelings for the artist. Every time she laughed, his heart stopped. But as quickly as the revelation set in, he was swatting it away. Perhaps, that, he thought, was the reason why they were friends and nothing more.
He quickly settled into chaotic confusion. The kind of conflict that only Peyton could inspire.
“I’m here, Jimmy,” Brian sighed. “And I know it’s complicated because of all the shit that’s gone on...but you’re my best friend. I love you, man. That hasn’t changed.”
Jimmy nodded quietly.
Brian collected himself, cautiously taking the few steps to place himself by his best friend’s side. He placed his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder.
“She’s not just some girl,” the guitarist said fondly. “I know that.”
Jimmy’s crystal blues landed atop his nervous doe gaze.
Brian breathed, “She’s your girl.”
The words slapped Jimmy clear across his cheek. But Brian wasn’t done with him yet.
“If you want me to cancel the appointment with her, I will,” his best friend offered. “I’m not trying to step on your toes. But I do like her, man. I’d like to be her friend...But if it’s too weird for you, then I will delete her number. No harm, no foul.”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes, “You could do that? Just delete her number?”
Brian shrugged subtly, “For you? Yeah.”
The drummer smiled faintly, feeling both touched and guilty. There was nothing on this earth worth giving Peyton up for. Not Brian, not Natalie...no one.
“No need,” Jimmy assured his friend. “It’s all good, dude.”
“You’ve said that before,” Brian noted suspiciously.
Jimmy laughed, “We should have another smoke...I think we need it.”
Brian smiled widely, taking the opportunity to rekindle his friendship. He sank into his chair and tossed his cigarette pack into the center of the glass table. A silence fell over the two, warning them to tread away from the dangers of Peyton and into something neutral. Brian figured he'd spoken his piece--and Jimmy was now frantically scrounging through his affections. Brian had awoken a very real manifesto inside Jimmy's soul.
Why were they just friends?
“Are you going to Lauren’s party tomorrow?” Brian asked casually.
Jimmy smirked, allowing himself to slip into the simplicity of his friendship with Brian, just like he had for most of his life. Distracted, he placed Peyton into the back of his mind.
He nodded, stealing another smoke from Brian's pack, “Yeah, Lex wants to go.”
The guitarist couldn’t help but smile at his best friend’s constant use of Peyton’s former alias. Brian wasn’t entirely sure why Jimmy couldn’t let the name go, but a part of him hoped he never did. Every time the nickname would slip through Jimmy’s lips, an undeniable light would wash over the drummers features. It was a happiness Brian hadn’t seen in his friend for many, many years.
“I guess I’ll see you guys there then,” Brian smirked, lighting the end of his cigarette.
Jimmy smiled, “I guess you will.”

Notes

Brimmy <3

xx

Comments

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RamonaFoREVer RamonaFoREVer
6/18/19

@fyction
It is one of my favourite things. I melt every time!!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I know! Isn’t it sweet?! Guh. Pellivan <3

fyction fyction
6/11/19

@fyction
BUT PELLIVAN IS TRUE LOVE!!!
I still get giddy when Peyton says 'I love you' to Jimmy... urgh! Such a long time coming!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I mean.... Breyton could be revived... never say never ;)

fyction fyction
6/11/19