Painting Flowers

The bar that Jack had mentioned was nothing as I imagined.

The place was more of a pool hall than a drinking joint, although many of the customers nursed beer bottles while crooning the blues. Sports highlights played on fuzzy television sets as the chinking of pool balls ricocheting off of one another sounded throughout the space.

The dive was located a few blocks away from the original bar, but seemed like a world away. Instead of being in the middle of a metropolitan area, somehow we were transported to the grungiest of trucker joints. Smog of sinister cigars, the product of years of nomads passing through, made the atmosphere almost unbearable.

It was pretty obvious why Jack chose this location; it offered complete privacy. There was virtually no chance of a stray fan girl wandering into the joint. The thought of being alone with the musician both excited and scared me. Whatever happened, I was more than eager to find out what would happen in the coming hours.

With a confident stride, Jack led the way to two empty bar stools on the end of the serving counter. The bottoms scraped soundlessly on the floor, worn down from too much use over the years. The wood was sticky from the previous customer’s fingers, but it didn’t bother me much. Hailing the bartender, Jack ordered two beers advertised as the nightly special.

“You can really treat a girl,” I teased, pointing out the discounted prices. The menu had too many pages of extraneous information. The only real ones that mattered were the first two pages of fried foods. Those were what caught my eye.

Jack’s answering smile was half-concealed under the poor lighting fixtures, “And who said I was paying?” He leaned back on the stool, stretching towards the ceiling.

“You invited me out.” I reminded him quite matter-of-factl, leveling my eyes over the menu barricade. “And anyway, you’re supposed to be chivalrous to females. Thought you needed a refresher course.”

“My manners don’t need to be the topic of discussion. They didn’t seem to be interesting the other night…” His sentence trailed off, but it was obvious Jack was referencing the heated passion we had shared.

His words rekindled the memories and I shivered in remembrance. Looking at his lips sure didn’t help settle my libido. Instead of letting my emotions overrun reason, I cleared my throat and leveled my head above the growing feeling within me. The bartender saved me the opportunity to reply which might have been a blessing as much as a curse.

After a third of my beer was gone, I managed the courage to approach the elephant in the room, “So, Jack. Where did you run off to today?”

He swigged some of the alcohol to prime the reply, “Where I always end up when something goes wrong.” After realizing I was waiting for him to continue, Jack added on, “Where there are women.” Without thinking, I thumped him on the back of the head. He jumped nearly out of his chair. “Shit! Come on.”

“I can’t believe you’re serious!” I don’t know if I was feeling a bit jealous or outraged about his fondness towards other females. Another swig of alcohol made me feel marginally better.

“It’s not my fault.” Jack feigned innocence. “Besides, strip clubs are actually a great place to relax. They’re pretty low-key with their clients and you don’t have to think while you’re there.”

I laughed somewhat bitterly, “Yeah, you think nothing about breasts and beer. What a great combination.”

He chuckled, “We won’t go into the details here.” Jack eyed cast me a sidelong glance. “I never knew you to be the jealous type. This makes things a lot ore interesting.”

“I’m not jealous,” However untrue, I wanted to drive in the point. “I’m just worried about the ranking on your STD testing. That’s all.”

Jack scoffed, “Most of those girls are clean, trying to make a living.”

I didn’t care if that sounded reasonable, I was caught off-guard by his honesty. Most people would have fed me some bullshit about clearing their mind through a nature walk, but Jack was frank enough to tell me he watched nude dancers all afternoon. It was surprisingly admirable.

“Okay,” I began slowly, setting down my beer. “So for conversation’s sake, I’ll be accepting over your romps around various strip clubs. Now, just tell me why you had to get away.”

This line of approach obviously made Jack feel uncomfortable. His once forthcoming conversation seemed to die in his throat. It took him a moment to open up to me, “I was just thinking about Alex and Melanie. The whole situation is just really screwed up.”

“Jack,” I didn’t know how to say this carefully. “Let’s just face the facts. She’s probably never going to be with you. She’s dating your best friend. Melanie wouldn’t risk all of that, not to mention the band’s success, to be with you.”

Jack looked pretty cross and I was surprised he didn’t fold his arms like a child. “It just doesn’t add up.”

Granted, I didn’t know the full extent of Jack and Melanie’s history, but I could pretty much guarantee that things added up. Jack just didn’t want to do the math. I sighed, “Okay, I’m not going to fight with you over this. But you shouldn’t go around moping all day. It’s really unattractive.”

He actually pouted, “I’m not moping.”

I just stared at him for a full minute. Even counted to sixty in my head. “Yes, you are.”

At that, he didn’t fight with me any longer on the subject. Jack propped his head up on his hand. “It just hit me deep. I’m not used to being rejected by girls like that. Especially not someone I got so close with so quickly.”

“You gotta move on.” I drained the last of my beer and a nice buzz was starting to settle in from the alcohol. Motioning to the bartender, he brought two more beers out for Jack and me. By the looks of this conversation, it was going to be a long road tonight.

Jack began tearing a napkin into little bits and flinging them to the table. “I know,” he finally admitted, “But it’s not that easy. I’m always around them, seeing them. It’s too much for me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said dismissively and added on the cliché, “You’re not worth her time. Melanie doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

“Shit,” Jack laughed, “I’m in hardcore therapy right now.”

“And you will be until you can function on your own.” An idea began to form in my mind and I thought it could be mutually beneficial. “Listen, I’ll help you get over her.”

He looked glum, “How are you going to do that?”

“You need to work out your frustrations. I’ll be your, uh, companion for the next few weeks or however long you need to get yourself together.” I suggested with boldness.

“What exactly does that entail?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

I tried to elaborate, “I’ll be there to provide you emotional and physical well-being. Basically a girlfriend without us actually dating. It’ll get you over this hump in your life.”

“That’s weird enough to work.” Jack mused over the idea. He then asked a question, “ This is just out of curiosity: what about sex?”

I laughed, “That’s never far from a guy’s mind. I mean, we basically have already done everything. I don’t see a reason why we shouldn’t do it.”

Almost immediately, Jack responded, “Yep, I’m in.”

I hit his shoulder, laughing loudly, “I’m not going to be an on-call sex girl. This is really to help you out, all benefits included.”

“Conditions?” Jack asked with a smirk.

“No pet names.” I told him, “If you start calling me Sugar Dumpling I am out. Breach of contract.” At that, Jack laughed uproariously and it took him several moments to regain his composure enough to continue the conversation. Finally, I added, “Any conditions with you?”

“Don’t expect flowers. If I get you flowers this shit has gotten serious.” Jack told me with a grin. That smile faded into a serious expression, “But really, Audrey, you would do that?”

I nodded, “I think we’d make a good team. We have to make you better.”

However, I had my own reasons for agreeing to this. My breakup with Ethan was still holding me back from moving on. Not only did I not want to see Jack suffer my same fate, but I also needed this as a cleansing of my own love life. It’d be best for the both of us.

The lure of an oasis in Jack’s personal life was something he couldn’t deny needing. The lack of stability had put him on a collision course and only sent him spiraling further down into depression. A weight seemed to life off of his shoulders as he came to his conclusion, “Alright, it’s a deal.”

He held out his hand to shake, but in turn I moved my head side to side. “Nope. I don’t like swearing by handshakes. Only on drinks.”

Jack grinned and held his second beer up to mine, “Okay then. This is to emotional well-being and fake fighting makeup sex.”

I sighed and shook my head lightly, “This is going to be a long fictional relationship.”

But nonetheless, after looking into Jack's eyes I hit my glass into his beer searing the promise into our hearts.