Graffiti Casanova

Playing Dirty

The side door to Brett's storage unit was slightly ajar, and voices drifted out to where I was standing with my guitar, not quite ready to go inside. I couldn't make out all the words, but I could tell that it was Jared and Brett who were speaking back and forth, and they didn't sound happy. Davey, as usual, was staying out of it.

I cringed when Brett let out a string of expletives. It had to be directed at me. He blamed me for what happened, that was no secret. So did Jared, though, and I couldn't really argue anymore. I was the common denominator, after all, and it was up to me to woman up and do something to fix it.

So I did the opposite of what I wanted to do-- which was turn around, drive home, get in bed and watch Netflix for the rest of my life-- and I stepped up and knocked on the door. Because there was no way I was just going to walk in on that mess without a warning.

For a moment there was absolute silence. Until Brett cursed once more.

"That's her, isn't it? You told her to come here?" His voice was rising. Good grief. They hadn't told him I'd be joining them. So much for avoiding the mess.

The door swung open to reveal Davey, who greeted me with a grim expression. I didn't enter, just stood in the doorway; but my gaze scanned the unit-- so furnished with tables and plush couches and fluffy rugs that it looked like someone's living room instead of a storage unit-- and zeroed in on Jared, who was definitely to blame in this situation.

"Probably wasn't the best thing to omit, Jared." I crossed my arms, waiting for things to explode.

I didn't have to wait long.

Jared glared at Brett. "I was going to tell you but I didn't think it'd take an hour to convince you that this is our only option!" He emphasized his last words by slamming his palms onto the coffee table-- Brett's mom's "winter" coffee table-- causing the porcelain vase on the end to wobble precariously. Davey leaned over and swiped it, setting it on the "spring" coffee table, safe from the outbursts. For now.

"No! Totally not our only option!" Brett shouted back, throwing up his hands. "The farthest thing from our only option! You're saying she's the last woman on earth and ignoring a hundred other girls standing right in front of you!"

"Ouch, Brett. You wouldn't want me if I was the last woman on earth?" I said in a bored tone.

He shot me a spiteful look, confirming the answer.

"But this record deal is like, the jackpot woman," Jared said, exasperated.

"Well I'd rather," Brett closed his eyes and waved his hands around, "I don't know, fly to Mars and take my chances starting a new species with the aliens or something!"

I blinked. "This analogy has gone way too far."

"There's no life on Mars," said Davey to nobody in particular.

Brett ignored us. "My point is, there are always other options."

"Yeah but they all suck!" Jared said. "This is what we wanted!"

"Adding a member and creating a new sound? That's literally becoming a new band."

"Well maybe that's what we need."

"No way, man." Brett shook his head. "I'm not a part of that." He walked to the door and held it open. A clear invitation to get the heck out. "If you change your mind, come find me."

"Dude..." Jared slumped against the "winter" table, "c'mon. It's UNITY."

"I'm serious."

Davey just waited, watching Jared.

"This is ridiculous."

Brett smiled without humor. "I agree," he said, pulling the door open further.

Jared stared at him, incredulous, slowly realizing that this was really happening. Finally he shook his head and sighed, heading for the door. Davey filed after him, and I moved aside to let them through.

Jared stopped in the doorway, looking Brett in the eye. "Just think about it. You're still in the band, dude. This isn't from our end."

Brett didn't respond, just closed the door after everyone had filed out, and locked it.

"Find somewhere else to practice with your new band," he mumbled as he brushed past us toward the street. We stood there, nobody saying a word, just watching him get in his truck and drive away.

It was Davey who spoke up in his unruffled way. "I don't think he likes the idea."

Jared did not look amused.

"So." I leaned against the wall of the storage unit, guitar propped up beside me. "What's your next brilliant plan, Jared?"

For a moment, he stared at the grass, brow furrowed in thought, before holding up a hand. "I think I have an idea."

"Oh, goodie," I muttered.

"What is it?" asked Davey.

Jared whipped out his phone and punched in a number. "Otto owes me a favor."

I frowned, confused. "Another favor?"

Jared lifted his eyebrows. "Otto will owe me a favor for a long, long time."

I turned to Davey for an explanation.

"He dated Jared's cousin Sarah," he said, as if that explained it. Then again, it was Otto we were talking about-- maybe it did.

"Awh. Broke her heart?" I stuck my lower lip out and turned back to Jared. "Seemed like you were over it a few nights ago."

"Oh, he's over it," said Davey. "Sarah is too, they're even friends again."

My gaze shifted back to Davey. "So... he's just holding it over Otto's head for as long as he can?"

Davey shrugged.

"Dang, Jar. You play dirty."

Jared turned and faced me, phone to his ear. I could hear the faint ringing from where I was standing.

"Yeah, well, you're welcome-- playing dirty is about to get us a new practice space."

Who is worse-- Jared or Brett?! Chapter song is Just Like That by The Coronas.