Chapter Seven

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☼ J A C K S O N ☼

I stared at the door that Sophia had just slammed shut and then looked at Brayden, who was running a hand down his face. For a minute, I wanted to go after Soph and tell her that Brayden was just being an idiot, but I dismissed the idea immediately. I can't go running after my best friends girl after they just got in an argument. That would be wrong.

But when Brayden turned to me and shook his head, groaning, "Why the fuck did she just get so upset?" I knew I had to say something.

"Because you were being unsupportive," I tell him, then take another swig of my beer.

He falls on the couch beside me and glares at the side of my face as I drink. "I asked one question!"

I glanced at him and raised my eyebrows. "We could all tell you weren't happy about her news." 

"Because it's unrealistic," Brayden is quick to point out. "She has a good job now. I don't understand why she's still so obsessed with art if she can't make a career out of it." 

When I listened to him speak, I suddenly understand why Sophie didn't want to tell him about her hating her job. He just didn't get it. Ever since he got out of college, his personality shifted until he was more work oriented and strived for a realistic, conventional future. He got a good job at a big corporation with opportunities for promotion and fantastic benefits.

The more playful and carefree Brayden slowly dissipated when he got his new job, and his ideals  became skewed. In college, he was completely supportive of Sophia and her artwork; now, he hated it. He thought only in terms of realism, dismissing any dream that he deemed to be out of reach. And, unfortunately for Sophia, those dreams were pursuing her art.

I shake my head in disbelief at Brayden. "You can't help if your dream is unconventional. Plus, she's good. She actually has a shot at making something of herself."

Brayden scoffs. "What do you mean, her dream? She was only talking about painting something for her office."

I hesitate for a beat when I realize he doesn't understand the extent to which Sophie wants to pursue her art, but cover it up quickly. "She was clearly excited about the idea of being officially commissioned to paint something for someone, even if it was a one time thing. I'm just saying, if she loves it so much, you should be supportive of it." 

He sits on the couch for another moment, thinking over my words, before he sighs and leans back into the cushions. "You're right, I can be supportive of a one time thing. I mean, at least she's not making a career out of it."

Instead of answering, I take another long swig of my beer, feeling torn. On one hand, I felt like I should tell Brayden that she is, in fact, considering pursuing her art as a career. I felt like I owed it to him as his best friend. But on the other hand, I couldn't possibly betray Sophie's trust, because then she would never trust me with anything as big as this again. 

So I kept quiet, and left his apartment when he told me he was heading over to Sophia's place to talk to her. I drove back to my apartment with The Eagles blaring through my radio, my windows down and the cool evening summer breeze whipping against my face. The drive from Brayden's place to mine only took about ten minutes, and I found a parking space right in front of my apartment building, which was a rare blessing in the city. 

I hopped out of my car humming along to the song that had just been playing on the radio and entered my apartment building, waving hello to the doorman. "Hey, Pat."

Patrick, an aging black man with the friendliest smile you've ever seen, nods at me. "Hello, Mr. Gaines."

I stop mid stride and give him a look, saying warningly, "Pat." 

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