Work Text:
“Bird!” Matt bellowed as he came running down the stairs, “I’ve got an idea.”
Jay was sitting at the piano, casually playing the beginning to "Unchained Melody” which came to an abrupt halt on a sour note. He turned to Matt, who stood at the whiteboard, waiting for what could possibly be the next plan of action.
“Actually,” Matt started, stepping away and backing up the stairs, “this is a very classy plan, play me something classy.”
“Classy?”
“Yeah, you know like…” Matt waved his hands around in a way he must've perceived as refined. He held an expression that was similar to a serious composer or aristocrat. “High-end, art gallery type of shit, you’ll see why.”
Jay followed Matt’s orders, playing a soft, off the cusp rendition of Allegretto in C Major as Matt more or less sauntered down the stairs to the whiteboard. With an over the top, flamboyant flair, Matt plucked the marker up and began writing with his chin high. This whole performance dropped the second he turned back to Jay, that twinkle of impishness returning.
‘PROMO PAINTING PLAN,’ said the writing on the board.
“Okay, so you know that painting place across the street?”
Jay narrowed his eyes. “The paint date place?”
“Yeah, so okay,” Matt said, continuing to write, “Step 1: We go to the paint date place.”
“As a date?”
“As a plan.” Matt slightly widened his eyes, a silence settling over them for a moment before he went back to writing. “Step 2: We use their stuff to paint promotional materials for Nirvanna the Band because, Bird, you know what every band has?”
Jay looked around the room, lips pressed together. He tried to appear in thought, but truly he had no idea how to answer.
“They have kickass promotional art! We get this killer art, I’m talking the most badass stuff with our name on it,” Matt said, waving his arms around to conjure up the image. “Then we leave the paintings in front of the Rivoli, and they’re gonna be like ‘What?! Whose sick fucking art is this and how can we book them?’ And that’s when we get the call.”
“But we don’t know how to paint,” said Jay.
“That’s why we’re having a paint date.”
“No, stop calling it that-“
“You called it that first, I didn’t-Jared, who said paint date first?” Behind the camera, Jared motioned between them, but gave no verbal answer. Jay rolled his eyes and scratched at the side of his face.
“I mean, how are we supposed to paint anything if we never painted? Isn’t the whole thing that we paint what they show us?”
“Uh, yeah, but we just won’t. We’ll take the knowledge given,” Matt made a hand motion like he was calling in some unknown force, “and we’ll do our own thing. I’m honestly lost at how you’re not getting this.”
“But then we’ll have to be around all those other couples,” Jay whined.
Matt nodded, “Oh, I see what’s up.” Tilting his head, Jay awaited the answer. “You’re scared of looking like a couple.”
“Matt, no that’s not-“
“Jay, it’s an art class, homophobia is like, frowned upon I’m pretty sure. It’s not like the hockey game where—, well I guess no one ended up puking when those other guys stole our plan, but you know art is especially very liberal.“
“I just don’t want to paint in front of people.” Jay hunched over, elbows propping him up on his legs as he folded and unfolded his hands. “What if it turns out like sh█t?”
“Jaybird, it’s a class, you and I will simply absorb the knowledge. We’ll leave that place fucking masters of the craft and with the most insane Nirvanna the Band art known to man!”
“The only Nirvanna the Band art known to man.”
“You know, I’ll bet it’ll end up on t-shirts. How about that? Our art, that we crafted and got us a gig at the Rivoli, on merch.” Matt paused to think about it, a serene smile across his face that then turned serious. “We should probably watch out for bootleggers. You know when they do that thing where they stand outside a show with cheap copies on shirts for half the price? Man, we’ll have to be on that or-“
“Hey, so, when are we going to this thing?”
“Oh, I got us booked in the next hour.”
Jay raised his eyebrows. “You booked us?”
“Yeah, what did you think we’d just walk in?” Matt laughed, glancing back at the whiteboard. He really did seem sure of this plan, but then again Matt was sure of every plan. Still, the thought of having to paint around a group of people, couples no less, made Jay’s stomach flip. What if they all took turns passing by him to laugh, or snap a picture to send to their couples group chats? Or whatever people who did these things together had.
“Okay, fine, do, uh, do we need to dress any kind of way?” Jay asked, hands running up and down his thighs.
“I don’t think there’s a dress code, Bird.”
“No, just like, in case it gets messy, you know?”
Matt’s jaw hung open for a second. “Oh, like if we get really in the moment you mean? Like we’re just really getting in there?” The two of them laugh, Matt shifting his weight back and forth before adding, “Nah, I think we’ll be okay.”
“Yeah? And you really think this’ll work?”
“As far as I’m concerned, we’re gonna have—,” Matt began counting on his fingers, “—badass promo art, possible t-shirt designs and a show at the Rivoli by tonight.” He did a definitive pointing downward motion on the last one that made Jay crack the smallest smile.
And that was it. It was decided. The two of them would go on the paint date (as best friends).
Matt smiled. “You know if this was, uh, like a text or reading material this would be the part where we’d get something at the top like ‘LATER…’ and we’d already be there.”
“Like in a comic?”
“Yeah, or just in a book, or you know we’d get a page break with those little squiggles or some other pointless shit the author used for the aesthetic purpose.”
“You’ve been reading too many paperbacks,” said Jay, causing Matt to sing out the first line of ‘Paperback Writer’ off-key. Jay echoed the harmony.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
They arrived at the paint date place, which was moderately full of couples that appeared to be on first dates. Then there was Matt and Jay, sticking out like sore thumbs. Jay muttered something about how this was a mistake, but was shushed by Matt when the instructor came out.
There were maybe five or ten minutes where Jay would peek over at Matt and see him in the zone before becoming less and less engaged. At a point, he was just jabbing and stabbing at the canvas as though he was threatening its life. They were all painting a sunset over the ocean, except for Matt who was busy painting…well it was hard to really tell what he was doing.
“MJ,” said Jay, “what is that?”
“It’s an explosion, and in the middle…BOOM! It’ll say Nirvanna the Band.” Matt looked over at Jay’s canvas, mouth agape. “What the hell are you doing?”
Jay looked back at his canvas, which was clearly anything but the plan: a sunset over the water.
“I got caught up in the instruction.” Matt stared at the canvas, his free hand pressing into the side of his face.
“Of course, of course,” Matt laughed before his face fell. “You are ruining the plan!” Matt was trying to speak in a low hiss, but couldn’t fully contain himself. Some couples glanced over at them then went back to painting. It must have caused enough of a commotion because the instructor came over to stand behind Jay.
“Hey, that’s really nice,” the instructor said, hand on Jay’s shoulder.
“Really?” Jay asked, eyes widening.
“Yeah, you have a real eye for color. I like how you did the orange here.”
“You know,” scoffed Matt, “he doesn’t even like to paint, total amateur.” He said it in a way to embarrass Jay, but it only made the instructor raise an eyebrow and express how impressed he was. Then he peered over at Matt’s with less enthusiasm before walking away.
Jay turned to Matt with a huge grin. “Hear that? I have a way with color.”
“Oh, big whoop.”
“Someone’s jealous,” said Jay, leaning into the s in ‘jealous’ to come out like a hiss.
“I’m not jealous, dude, you just abandoned the plan.” Jay tried to calm Matt down, saying he could just start over, but his friend wouldn’t even look at him. Instead, Matt pretended to be locked in on his painting.
“Whatever,” said Jay, “you’re jealous the instructor liked mine and not yours.”
“I’m not jealous of you and Bob fucking Ross, Bird!” That did it, the entire room’s attention snapped to them when Matt knocked over Jay’s painting in a fit of rage.
“What the f█ck!” Jay cried as the painting landed face first on him, completely wrecking his clothes. Their hands flew into the air, just about to land on each other when the instructor came back over and blocked the camera’s view of them.
“Excuse me, but you need to leave.”
“What?” Jay asked, exasperated.
“I’m sorry, but we have a strict no tolerance for violence policy, and you need to leave.”
Matt shrugged and grabbed his painting, muttering a ‘sorry’ to the people around him. He was the first one out while Jay lingered behind, looking down at the stained clothes and painting on the floor. Following Matt, the camera panned around the room to couples whispering and making concerned faces. One guy was trying not to laugh.
—-
Jay got back to their house a bit after Matt, who took to admiring the work he was able to do with his own painting.
“Fuck it, we don’t need two,” Matt said to Jared, showing off the canvas. “Just some small touches and this baby’s good to go.”
It was then that Jay walked through the door, still coated in paint, but not nearly as pissed as Matt expected he’d be. In fact, Jay looked downright peachy.
“Okay, Bird I know we got carried away—“
“You mean you got carried away.”
“But look, we still have one badass painting. At least one of us can follow through.”
Jay didn’t bite back, his mind clearly elsewhere as he nodded. He didn’t even complain about the deep paint stains on his clothes. Matt didn’t press, he was just glad to not have to listen to his friend’s whining, even though it was him who had messed up the plan.
“And we can still finish the painting.”
“What?” asked Jay, pulled out of his trance. “We don’t have any paint, Matt, just varnish, remember?” They still never found out who had switched that black paint for it.
“Ah, not so fast, Birdie.” Matt wagged his finger and turned to the floor, presenting small jars of yellow, red and orange paint.
Jay’s jaw dropped. “Did you f█king steal that?” A long, drawn out whine that was meant to be Jay saying Matt’s name followed, his hands falling to his side.
“Hey, we had our time stolen, so I think that’s tit-for-tat.”
“Only ‘cause you freaked out. Why did you even take that?”
“Because Bird, the painting’s near perfect and we need to finish it. Notice anything missing?” Matt asked, stepping aside so Jay could get a look at the canvas. Jay tilted his head like a dog and didn’t say anything. “We need our band name on it.”
“I knew that,” said Jay. “But MJ, stealing paint, really?”
“When we’re rich and famous we’ll buy the guy better paint. Til then, we’re gonna get this kickass bitch painting done.” Matt smiled wide, imagining the final product and the fame it would bring, and went to Jay with his hand up for a high-five. Jay met him with his own hand, but with hesitation.
Jay glanced at the floor then back to Matt. “Okay what should I do? Should I…”
“Paint? No, no, you’ve clearly shown you can’t do that. This is my canvas and I’m gonna show you how it’s done.” Jay pressed his lips together, eyes to the left. “But tell you what, why don’t you be my assistant?”
“Assistant?”
“Yeah, you know, sit at the table and mix some paint for me since you’re so good at colors.” Matt topped the sentence off with a laugh.
Jay looked at the clock on the wall then to Matt, shrugging and taking the paints with him to sit cross-legged at the coffee table. He surprised Matt again with his lack of complaining or even a comeback, instead he seemingly sunk back into that strange fugue state he was in on their walk back.
The first hour went by without a hitch, well, except for the fact that they didn’t have a small enough paintbrush. In his moment of passion and getting thrown out, Matt didn’t think to grab one, so he resorted to using his fingers. Easy enough, finger painting, even a baby could do that, he reasoned when Jay had cast doubt. Meanwhile, Jay stayed on the floor after mixing some of the paints on a plate as Matt asked. Matt didn’t check on him, declaring he needed to focus as he pressed and swiped his fingers against the canvas and filled it out even more in an explosion of color. This was it. This was the magnum opus that would get them the show.
Matt stood back and admired the work, specifically looking at the space he left where he still needed to put their band name. Why rush genius, he figured. Adding the name would be the finishing touch and he had to make sure he had the perfect groundwork.
“Now this is great,” he said, turning to Jay. “Isn’t it? Bird? Jay?” But Jay wasn’t reacting, his head propped on his one hand while his other was smearing colors on a napkin. “Are you listening? Look.”
Finally, he looked up and made a half-hearted smile.
“Looks…great, Matt.” Jay checked the clock. Matt looked too, the time read 7:35.
“Great? Looks fucking awesome, better than some sunset, eh?”
“Sure.”
“And what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Jay said with jump as Matt made his way over to him. Jay looked to be trying to recreate the sunset he was doing earlier, albeit with a much more limited palette. Before Matt could say anything, Jay stood up and crumpled the napkin. “Hey, Matt why don’t we take a break? You know, like a quick nap or something?”
“A nap?”
“Yeah, you know it’s just been a long day and…you’ve been working so hard on this.” Jay stretched an arm out with an exaggerated yawn.
“This is the part where I’m about to strike creative gold—I can’t just nap! Would you tell Frida Kahlo to nap? Would you silence her, Bird?”
“I’m just saying! A couple hours of shut eye, sleep on what you have and then come back with fresh eyes.” Jay put on a wide smile that only faltered when he looked at the clock again.
He was acting suspicious, Matt recognized that conniving side of his friend anywhere. He thought he looked so innocent right now, but he could never help himself when it came to giving up the game.
“What’s with you?” Matt paused. Jay came home later than he did. Did something else happen at the stupid paint date place? “What happened after I left?”
“Nothing.”
“Bird, I swear to god…”
“Nothing,” Jay whimpered, “I just…”
“Just what?” Matt gave Jay a light shove to coax the response.
“Uh…”
“Uh?”
“Brad was saying—“
“Brad?”
“The painting instructor,” Jay clarified. Of course his name was Brad, one of the douchiest names a man could have. Matt could picture him in one of those cheesy beach movies as the bully who tried to steal the main character’s girl, or in this case, best friend.
“You’re on a first name basis? What’s next, first base?”
Jay pursed his lips. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Oh, well I’m not homophobic,” Matt clarified, looking at the camera then back to Jay, “I’m just saying.”
“What? No I didn’t mean it like that.”
“So you don’t care about homophobia?”
“That’s not-I do-Matt, you know what I mean.” Jay stammered through his sentence while Matt did circles around him.
“Bird, I’m surprised at you, I mean, god…”
“I’m going back to take another class,” Jay blurted out.
The air was still. Matt made a face that was a cross between shock and diluted fury that he was poorly attempting to hide under a layer of indifference. Jay’s eyes shifted around the room, to Jared then to Matt.
“He was impressed with my painting and felt bad that it got destroyed…by you… so he offered to do a private lesson to make up for it.”
Matt scoffed and scratched the side of his face, he was expecting Jay to start laughing and admitting to screwing with him. That reveal never came, and Matt was just left standing there while Jay fantasized about this Brad guy.
“Why,” Matt breathed in, “why would you do that?” Jay pouted and went to answer but was immediately cut off. “He was impressed by your painting? The one literally everyone else was fucking doing?”
“He said my colors were nice.”
“That was probably some homo code word.” Matt pointed an accusatory finger and waved it around.
“I thought you weren’t homophobic.”
“And so what? You’re gonna go all Basquiat? Is this guy your Warhol? Have you seen that movie? Basquiat? David Bowie?” Matt stopped, breath held. “Wait, that’s it this is your redemption, Bird. Go back and paint what you should have done and—“
“Matt, no I don’t wanna do that.”
“What?” Matt’s arms dropped to his sides. “But our plan, Bird. Did you already forget or are you too head over heels?”
“Maybe,” Jay started, “I liked painting that ocean. Maybe I liked it better than whatever it was you were doing.”
“It’s obvious what it was.”
“Nobody knew what it was. That’s not going to get us a show at the Rivoli, Matt.”
Matt looked back at his painting, and sure maybe it was unconventional, but it had flair. What did Jay know about that? All he did was play the piano. He doesn’t draw. He doesn’t even have good penmanship, the last time he wrote on the whiteboard it was all incomprehensible scribbles.
“You know what you are dude?” said Matt, jabbing a finger into his friend’s chest. “You are a total philistine.”
Jay threw his head to the side and made a face that told Matt he didn’t understand what that word meant but still took it as an insult.
“You look down on art you don’t get.” Matt poked Jay with each word, harder and harder for emphasis. Slapping Matt’s hand away, Jay twisted his face into a deep frown.
“Well maybe I would have gotten it if I could tell what it was.” Matt let out a loud “AH-HA!” like it was a huge gotcha on Jay’s part that proved Matt’s point, but Jay just glowered at him. “Shut up, Matt! I mean, Jesus Christ, I don’t know what I’m looking at.”
Matt knew Jay would be eating his words when they were playing the Rivoli, if Matt even wanted him to play with him. What if this was the start of Jay’s pretentious art nature? Maybe Matt would wake up tomorrow to find that Jay thought playing the piano was utterly pedestrian, all while sporting a new, black turtleneck and beret Brad gave him. What if just being in the band was beneath him or even associating with Matt? This stupid Brad guy would become Jay’s new b-friend and they’d ride off into whatever Thomas Kinkade wannabes rode into.
“Fine,” said Matt.
“Fine?”
“Yeah dude,” Matt shrugged and put on his most strained smile, “go be with your new best friend.”
“Matt come on-“
“Just use protection or whatever for your private date.”
“Matthew…”
“Go!” Matt turned back to his painting, fighting the urge to look back at Jay, who was silent. He only looked back when he heard the door shut and found Jay was gone with their second camera following.
Matt looked at Jared and shrugged, throwing on the most throwaway expression he could muster. He didn’t care. It was so obvious he didn’t care. In fact, he cared so little, he was going to prove Jay wrong and rub it in his stupid fucking art critic face.
“Won’t get us a show,” Matt muttered to himself. “Jay can’t even write a cohesive sentence and now he thinks…” Matt looked around the room, then back to the door. “We don’t need him, not when we have this.” Matt presented the painting to the camera; Jared stayed quiet and zoomed in on the canvas.
—-
Jay paced around the outside of the paint date place, ruminating on how things went with Matt. His freezing hands stayed shoved in the deep pockets of his big coat as he did so. Part of him considered going through with the plan, to show Matt that he could fix it all. He’d be so proud of him.
But then another part of him remembered the praise from Brad, and that really triumphed over any shame pooling in his stomach. So, Jay went inside where Brad was waiting for him with fresh canvases.
He smiled at Jay and shut the door, leaving the camera to stay behind and keep covertly recording through the window on the door.
“Thanks for letting me come back.”
“Of course. I’m sorry I had to throw you two out, but if I let that slide it would’ve reflected poorly on me.”
Brad brought out the new canvases and other supplies, placing them down in front of Jay. They were doing the same ocean sunset from earlier. Well, Jay was while Brad gave him verbal instruction and watched him intently. He didn’t start painting on his blank canvas, instead choosing to observe Jay paint.
“That’s really gorgeous.”
Jay grinned and uttered a shy, “Thank you.”
“Do you paint often?” Brad asked, watching Jay add a new layer of strokes.
Jay gave a shy laugh. “No, I, uh, play the piano in a band.”
“With your boyfriend?” Jay didn’t stop painting, but his face scrunched in confusion.
“What?”
—-
Matt stared, or maybe he was glaring, at the painting. He had finished it off with the band name, but it was still lacking. Something about it was missing that final piece that made it all come together.
“Stupid Jay, stupid Brad,” Matt muttered to himself over and over, a mantra he had going for the past half hour as he attacked the canvas with his painted fingers. Nothing about the piece, the piece that would make them famous, gave him that spark. It was perfect, exactly what was in Matt’s mind, everything he saw in their band, but he felt nothing.
Maybe if Jay were here…but no, he wasn’t worried about Jay. He’d already established he again didn’t care, but that still didn’t stop his mind from wandering to their fight earlier. Sure, Jay was a complete philistine, a total hack, but Matt couldn’t help but recall the way he talked to Jay.
“Oh?” Memory Matt scoffed. “He said you know colors? Did he also say you were a good speller for your age? Get real, Bird.”
“He said I was doing a good job,” Memory Jay answered, eyes at the floor and his head low like a kicked dog.
“Are you gonna go out on a date with him now? Marry him? Have his kids and paint a colorful painting of them?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Well, you better hurry before you’re late! You don’t wanna keep your date waiting. Go on, go! Hurry!”
Memory Jay kept his head down, lips pouting as he slinked out the door.
Matt kept his eyes on the canvas then turned his attention to the camera. Off-camera Jared asked Matt if he was okay.
“It’s perfect, it’s better than perfect,” said Matt. And it was, it was the most badass cover art of all time and Matt would take it to the Rivoli and probably get a standing ovation for it. Then Jay would see, and then Jay would ditch Brad and everything would be back to normal. He might even apologize for doubting Matt when they get to the stage. Matt might forgive him if he’s feeling in a forgiving mood, or maybe he’d let Jay grovel.
He took the painting, careful to keep his hands to the sides, and smiled down at it as though it were his child.
This would feel better if Jay were here, Matt found himself impulsively thinking before shaking the thought away.
Heading out the door, Matt gave one quick glance around just in case anyone (Jay) was around, then headed to his destiny at the Rivoli.
—-
“I think you’re confused,” Jay said with a nervous laugh. “Matt’s not my boyfriend.”
“You don’t have to pretend, it’s okay.” Brad, without putting his brush down, tapped Jay’s arm. “Though, I’ll say it’s…well it’s concerning how he talks to you, if I can be blunt.”
Jay gave a small smile, shaking his head. “That’s just how he is.”
“Anyone else would put in a wellness check after that, you know.” Jay stopped painting. Wellness check? For what? Some mild roughhousing? That was just them.
“I don’t know about that.”
“Is he the jealous type?”
“Sure but—“
“He seems like it with what happened. The way he destroyed your painting and talked about you.”
Sure, Jay thought, but that was because of the plan. That was what he wanted to say but knew it would have opened a whole other can of worms that would have him babbling about everything. He was mad at Matt, sure, but when Brad began talking about him, Jay suddenly felt something new. A pit back in his stomach and a burning in his jaw.
“And I mean,” Brad continued as Jay kept painting, “excuse me for saying this, but his painting was not impressive. He wasn’t even following along, he was just doing his own thing, that’s a concern, but that’s just my opinion.”
The burning in Jay’s face spread when he heard that. He was allowed to be pissed at Matt but when it was coming from a stranger it hurt. It made Jay think, ‘was that how I sounded?’ and think back to their fight just before he stormed out.
“Just give up,” Memory Jay taunted as Memory Matt pathetically pawed at the coated canvas. He was holding back tears, his bottom lip quivering as Jay continued to lob insults at him and his painting.
“I can’t even tell what I’m looking at, did you paint this when you were blind? I mean come ON!”
“Bird, please I’m doing my best, I’m sorry.”
“F█k you, you don’t know ANYTHING about colors, you stupid, colorblind bitch.”
Memory Matt, put his face in his hands, getting paint all over. Jay shoved his shoulder.
“Look at Matt, trying to paint with just his fat f█king fingers. Well I’m going back to paint with my NEW best friend and then we’ll start our own band. Without you. Dipsh█t r█tard.” Memory Matt kept his head in his hands as Memory Jay beckoned the second camera to follow but not before slapping Matt’s hat off of his head.
Jay bit his bottom lip, starting to paint again but his strokes grew slower and slower. He wished Matt were here right now. What was he up to?
—-
Trying to keep himself chipper, Matt whistled along his walk, imagining the success about to follow him (and Jay). The paint was definitely still little wet so Matt was trying to be careful not to mess with it too much. Surely a little wet paint won’t be an issue, if anything it’ll be a good look that he gave them such a fresh painting. Hot off the presses, as they say. No, that’s for newspapers. The point still stood.
Something gripped Matt as he came closer to the Rivoli, a force pulling him, a detached voice telling him this wasn’t right. It was asking where his best friend was, but he tried to ward it off. He wasn’t going to start listening to voices, he wasn’t a psychic like that one from, what was it… Ghost. 1990. Whoopi Goldberg. He was just relaying information in his mind to distract himself as he approached the blonde haired waitress who had just finished taking someone’s order.
The camera stayed further behind, zooming in from down the sidewalk in a way that would conceal some of Matt’s nervousness.
“Excuse me,” Matt spoke up, catching her attention.
“Yes?”
Matt handed her the painting, “This is a promotional piece for our band,” Matt said this while gesturing behind him before he remembered Jay wasn’t there. Having to save himself, Matt quickly spun around and gave a smile as he handed the painting over.
The waitress looked down at it then smiled at Matt, nodded.
“Okay, yeah thanks.”
“Oh, thank you,” Matt answered, trying not to make it look like was scampering away as he ran down the sidewalk, back to the camera.
He could breathe again. He did it! Any moment someone would come out and chase Matt down to invite Nirvanna the Band to play the Rivoli.
“Jared, did you see that? Totally fucking nailed it, dude, just wait til Jay sees. Oh man, he’s gonna feel so stupid when we-” Matt turned back to the Rivoli, his heart dropping at what he saw which was the waitress looking around then taking the painting to the alley. She must have thought Matt was already gone.
She came out of the alley empty-handed, wiping her hands with a napkin.
Tears stung at Matt’s eyes. He blinked them away and pushed the brim of his hat down. He had totally screwed up the plan, maybe Jay was right. Then he paused, eyes widening as it hit him. He did screw up, the reason the painting was thrown away was because the waitress could tell it was born out of spite not passion for the band. His dogshit vibes as he’d painted had tainted the whole thing. It didn’t matter how good the painting was because he didn’t do it with love. That was a thing wasn’t it? ‘Made with love.’ It must have also applied to band art.
Matt knew what he had to do, he had to get Jay back.
—-
“You know, I didn’t think Matt’s painting was that bad,” Jay mumbled. He couldn’t concentrate on the painting anymore.
“Well, it wasn’t correct is more what I mean.”
“But isn’t the whole point of art just…do what you feel or whatever?” Jay tacked on a chuckle at the end to make it less obvious he was getting frustrated on Matt’s behalf.
“Well sure, but that wasn’t what we were doing. I don’t think it’s bad of me to point that out when you both paid to follow the instructions.” Jay shrugged and looked back at the painting. He felt none of the pride he had felt earlier towards it, it just left him feeling empty. “But, you also can’t seriously think that art is just throwing whatever at a canvas, can you?”
“He’s just like that.”
“You keep saying that, but what does that even mean?”
“Why don’t we keep painting, I mean look, you haven’t even started,” said Jay, pointing to Brad’s blank canvas in hopes that would change the subject.
Brad wouldn’t relent. “Come on, seriously, tell me.”
Jay’s mouth fell open like he had a response, but instead nothing followed. His eyes searched around for anything to get him out of this otherwise he was just going to stumble through another half-hearted defense of his friend. That was when he thought he heard Matt’s voice in his ear, calling for him, perhaps to say anything.
This was until Jay saw it actually was Matt who had burst through the door with stained hands outstretched.
“Bird!”
“Matt?” Jay’s eyes lit up at the sight. “What are you doing?”
“Bird, no time to explain. Come on!”
Brad stood from his seat. “We’re in the middle of a session!”
He was completely ignored, Jay had jumped from his spot and bolted out the door with Matt, leaving behind his painting. He didn’t care, he didn’t want it.
—-
Matt caught his breath as he stumbled through their door, doubling over after essentially sprinting all the way back with Jay. He checked over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed by Brad or…cops or worse. The coast was clear and Jay was there smiling at him.
“Matt-“
“Hold that thought, Jaybird,” said Matt, raising a finger. “After you left I kept painting and dude, you should have seen it, it was,” Matt kissed his fingers like an Italian chef, “but there was one problem.”
“Where is it?”
“Gone, but that’s where I’m getting at. It didn’t matter how good the painting was because…it was only made with half of Nirvanna the Band, I mean think about it. We’re a package deal, and I just tried making something with only half the package. It was incomplete. Do you know what I mean?”
Jay grinned with his tongue sticking out between his teeth, “Yeah, Matt.”
“We need to make a new painting. Together.”
“Like…at the same time?”
Matt linked his fingers together. “Same time, same canvas, package deal.” Matt’s expression fell. “But…fuck, we don’t have anything to paint on.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Jay said, rocking on his heels. His hands were hidden under that big coat of his.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” Jay simpered, eyes going to the ceiling, “I don’t know…we might.” He was doing that demure act that told Matt he did in fact know.
“Bird come on, just tell me I just had a whole realization and don’t wanna do this right now.”
Jay dropped the playful performance and unzipped his coat. Underneath, he revealed a blank canvas he had hidden. “Goddammit Matt, I mean I took one of the canvases.”
“Why didn’t you just say that then, man?”
“Could we not just have a little back and forth? You know, like friends do?”
“Yeah, I get that but also you’re just prolonging the inevitable when you do that, dude. It’s a time-waster.” And just like that, Matt jumped back into his usual, excitable character, grasping at the canvas. “But wait, Birdie did you steal this?”
Jay smiled at the floor. “Well he wasn’t even using it so I figured why not.”
“You little sneak,” Matt said with a low chuckle, coming in close to Jay, close enough to feel his hot breath against his face. “So, how do we wanna do this?”
“You’re asking me?”
“You’re the color expert, I’ll,” Matt cleared his throat, “I’ll let you lead.” Jay raised his eyebrows, his body language getting withdrawn and shy.
“Okay, uh…” Jay licked his lips, propping the canvas up. He looked around for the jars of paint, their palette was still limited but Matt was sure Jay could figure it out. “How about I’ll stand here,” said Jay, firmly planted in front of the canvas, pointing down, “and you stand behind me. I’ll start painting and you can follow my hands.”
“Like Ghost?” Matt asked. “We’re gonna do a Ghost? You’re gonna be my Demi Moore? That would make more sense than Patrick Swayze with the whole thing you got going on.”
“You think I look like Demi Moore?”
“In a masculine way. It’s the hair. And the eyes sorta.” Jay reached up to touch his hair, clearly self-conscious. “It doesn’t matter, yes, yeah let’s do it, dude, fuck yeah.” Matt got behind Jay, having to lean over to see past him to the canvas, their bodies slotting together. It probably would have made more sense for Matt to be Demi Moore in this scenario, but he already gave Jay the reins and all the issues that would come with letting him make the decisions.
Jay brought the stool with the paint jars closer, dipping his fingers in the orange and yellow, then urging for Matt to reach around him. Swallowing excess saliva, Matt did so, his hands slowly finding the jars by sliding down Jay’s arms until he felt the rims of glass. Jay took the lead once more and rubbed some of the paint on Matt’s fingers before dragging them into the jars.
“Get them wet,” Jay whispered. Matt’s heart stopped for a brief second and he worried that sweat from his palms would somehow mess with the viscosity of the paint. It didn’t seem to, his hands, as gently as Matt could muster, following Jay’s as they slid over the canvas.
At one point, Matt’s finger slipped and he could feel Jay tense against him.
“I hope it wasn’t a masterpiece,” said Matt.
Jay laughed. “Not anymore, come here.” Jay arranged their hands so it wasn’t Matt’s fingers following Jay’s but rather their hands just on top of each other. “Let the paint slide through your fingers.” Jay dipped his fingers again with Matt’s still on top, so that the paint would coat both of them, the colors slipping in between their hands while they continued painting.
Matt’s only ever seen Jay so in the zone when he played piano, but even then it always looked so effortless that it bordered mindless for Jay. This time, Matt could feel Jay’s heartbeat and concentrated breathing as though this were the most dire thing in the world. It was of course, this was their show at the Rivoli they were talking about. But somehow that thought came close to second, the wetness of the paint binding their fingers so they could work in tandem coming first. Matt heard a small gasp fall from his friend's lips, he must have done something right. Subconsciously, Matt let out a shaky breath as another stroke was made and leaned further over to see the canvas. It really was a sight to behold.
“Birdie, wow.” Jay beamed back at Matt.
“All it needs now is the band name.” Each stroke of the letters sent a new shiver through Matt’s nervous system that turned from tickles to electric shocks on his nerve endings. He never wanted to detach from his best friend, he wanted their hands to stay glued together forever and they could just keep adding paint to the canvas til the end of time.
But that didn’t happen once Jay dropped his hands from the canvas, with Matt’s following. There was a beat of silence between them then Matt, through the blood pounding in his ear, heard Jay speak.
“You liar,” said Jay.
“Wha-what?”
“You said you didn’t take any paint brushes.”
“I didn’t.”
“Matt,” Jay whined, “I can feel it poking me.” Matt froze, mortified, not letting himself look down. He chose to just keep his eyes glued to their masterpiece of promo art. “Did you seriously just wanna finger paint that bad?” Jay was blissfully ignorant as always.
“Uh, I need to piss.” And Matt was gone, bolting up the stairs while Jay admired their work.
“Gross,” Matt heard Jay say. He knew Jay was probably just complaining about his stained hands, at least he hoped so.
—-
“Bird, this is it,” Matt raved, painting in hand. “This is what we were missing, it’s the perfect amalgamation of Nirvanna the Band.”
They speed-walked to the Rivoli, the chill of the night not deterring either of them and their dance with destiny. Jay admired their work, it was better than any ocean or sunset or whatever Matt had been doing. Matt was right it was the perfect…what’d he say? The perfect ablation of the band.
The Rivoli stood before them, a waiter outside bringing out some drink orders. It was go-time.
“Do you want to do the honors?” Matt asked, beaming. Even in the cold, Jay felt his face grow warmer with every second of looking at Matt.
“I think you should.”
“Oh, but this was all your lead.” Was Matt nervous?
“We did it together.” A pause. “Let’s just go together.” Matt’s mouth was open, breath slipping through his parted lips like smoke.
It was agreed, they would do it together. The cameras stayed behind as they shuffled up and got the waiter’s attention, handing him the painting. The waiter smiled down at the painting. Was it working? It had to be. The two had no time to dwell because they immediately turned and made their way back to the house to wait for their anticipated phone call.
They did not see, however, the cameras stay behind to catch a moment where a man drifting by stopped to also admire the painting and be given it by the confused waiter.
—-
Matt and Jay waited by the phone that would never ring, playing a round of Mario Kart. Matt was doing that thing where he would let the other players catch up while Jay complained about it, their bodies pressed comfortably close together on the couch while playing. At some point, after Jay came in last place, Matt requested Jay play some music while he played another round. Jay obliged.
“You know,” said Matt, “the real thing is nobody really, uh, appreciates traditional art anymore. You know, you see all these artists and they just wanna use like, the computer or whatever.”
“Hey at the end of Ghost,” said Jay, stopping the music, “are those shadow things supposed to be demons.”
“One would assume, right?”
“There’s a Heaven in the movie, so there must be a Hell.”
“Unless they’re doing the whole Jewish thing and there’s no Hell.”
Jay tilted his head. “Is that true?”
“Oh yeah, but I think that movie was more abstract about afterlife stuff anyway. Probably not a Jew thing.”
“Well, don’t say it like that.”
“You know, that would make a good plan.” Matt made a popping noise with his lips.
“Jewish stuff?”
“Ghosts,” Matt corrected, eyes glued to the screen. “We say the Rivoli’s haunted or some shit and we’re Ghostbusters. You know, ‘GhostBUSTERS!’” Matt yelled the last part like the chorus of the Ghostbusters theme and then scatted the main melody.
“Shouldn’t we wait and see if this current plan works out first?” Matt didn’t give him answer, once again back on Mario Kart.
“Keep playing the song,” Matt demanded, doing that thing again that Jay hated.
“Stop doing that, you’re gonna mess me up. I told you I won’t play if you keep doing that.” Jay played anyway after Matt told him to again. A victorious cheer ripped through the house as Matt came in first place.
Matt and Jay would not get a call from the Rivoli that night, but no matter. They would find a new plan tomorrow.