Yet You're my Favorite Work of Art

Chapter Six

I approach the door that says 807 on it. The address Ashley gave me better be correct. Fixing myself a little bit, I knock on the door and pray. And after a moment, the door opens. Melanie smiles at me. She's dressed way differently, in a pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt. She raises an eyebrow at me.

"Are you coming in?"

I follow her inside and stand awkwardly in the kitchen as she neatens up a little bit, rambling about how messy the place is and other shit like that.

"Mel, it's okay, don't worry." She sits down on the couch and pats the seat next to her.

"What's up?" Before I can reply, she's standing. "Let me get you a drink."

"This'll be quick, I'm fine." I shift awkwardly as she sits back down. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. It was completely unprofessional and unnecessary and just overall wasn't cool. I'm sorry." She stands up again and walks into the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of iced tea.

"It's alright. I'd be the same way if I saw the guy I liked with someone else."

My heart stops beating, Melanie just carries on and sits back down on the couch next to me. "Plus the gallery did fantastic, and I mean this in the nicest way, your little moment even made it more interesting. I've already gotten sponsors for another one, possibly." She casually takes a sip of her drink and watches me. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I have to go do..." I trail off at the end, not even wanting to try and attempt to make some lame excuse. I leave the apartment before Melanie can say anything else, the door quietly closing.

The walk down isn't terrible, and soon I find myself in the middle of the sidewalk. It's a quiet neighborhood, no worries of someone crashing into me. I just stand there for a minute, collecting myself. Is it really that obvious? And I don't like Brendon, I can't like Brendon. I shiver and put my hands in my pocket, finally moving from my spot and walking down the sidewalk.

I find myself in a diner, the warm air wrapping itself around me. It's a small little place, very quiet. A man sits at the counter, mindlessly sipping his coffee, his eyes fixated to the small TV screen above. An elderly couple sits at one of the tables, the woman picking at a muffin as the man reads the newspaper. Another couple sits in the back, two men talking. I can automatically tell they're together. Must be nice. A kind-looking man comes over to me. I squint and read his nametag. Tyler.

"Good morning, sir. Can I get you a table?"

"I'll just sit at the counter, thanks." Tyler smiles and I make my way over to the counter. I'm far enough away from the big man that I feel I can breathe. Another man appears in front of me, pushing a strand of pink hair out of his face.

"Can I get you something?"

"Do you have any Irish coffee?" He looks at me strangely for a second and chuckles.

"It's a little early to start drinking, don't ya think?" I grin and shrug. His nametag reads Josh.

"No, not at all." Josh nods and starts up the coffee pot. He leans on his elbows on the counter and looks at me.

"Something happen for you to be drinking at ten in the morning?"

"Just loads of shit."

"Ah, that sucks. Well, I'm serving you alcohol, I'm basically a bartender now. Man's therapist minus the degree."

I laugh at that. "If you insist." He pours the coffee into a cup and pours some whiskey inside. "You can skip the cream."

He mock-salutes me and hands me the cup. I take a sip and sigh.