Art Is Dead

I got the feeling that Bo was trying to impress me. He didn't seem to realize that it was fruitless. I didn't want to be impressed. I just wanted someone that cared about me; the rest didn't matter. I chose to see his attempts as proof that he wanted me, and nothing more.

Despite my resolve that I wouldn't let his fancy lifestyle sway me, I began to worry that I wouldn't be enough for him. Maybe his last girlfriend had been classy and proper, but I wasn't like that. Bo didn't seem like the type to care about that stuff, but here he was taking me to restaurants where meals cost more than my entire grocery budget for the week. I was a student, and I was frugal. I wanted to order water and fill up on the complimentary bread.

"Bo, this place is... pricey," I said slowly.

"Don't worry, it's on me."

"Yeah, but... I feel really out of my element here. Is this the kind of place you usually go?"

"No. Actually these people are way too stuck up for me. I thought you would like it."

I shook my head. "This is definitely not my scene. I prefer to eat things I can pronounce."

Bo's eyes lit up. "I think I like you more every single time we speak."

We left the dining area just as the waiter arrived to take our drink orders. Both of us began to giggle as was saw the man spin around in confusion, searching for his missing patrons. We got back into my car, which had barely had time to cool down from the weather. After a few minutes of debating our options, we made our way to my favourite restaurant in the city. It was so small that you would miss it if you didn't know what you were looking for.

Inside, it was a well-lit diner that was like a time-warp back to the fifties. I always felt like I was walking into an episode of Happy Days, and Fonzie was going to walk in at any minute and hit the jukebox. I didn't know why I loved this place so much, but I had wound up there on countless Sunday afternoons with my friends.

As Bo and I chatted over our meals, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was dreaming, yet again. How could he be here? I found it hard to believe that my whole life since meeting him had been a figment of my imagination, though. Nobody has good dreams that involve term papers. That's just not human behaviour.

"Let's take a walk," Bo suggested when we had finished eating. I agreed, and we set off down the street with our jackets zipped up to our chins.

I could feel my cheeks and the tip of my nose grow exceptionally rosy as we walked past the store windows, which were lit up and decorated for the holiday season. I wasn't a Christmas person, but I loved the lights. There was just something about the glitter that made me happy.

Bo reached out and slipped his icy fingers into mine. Vaguely, I could recall my mother's voice warning me about frostbite, but I didn't really care. It was a beautiful night, and I was having a good time.

Later on, we decided to head back to my place. While I changed into some sweat pants to try and warm up my frozen legs, Bo played around on my computer. He looked up at me when I walked back into the room.

"Your taste in music is weird," he told me.

I hopped onto the bed next to him and began wrapping myself up in blankets. "Why do you say that?"

"Your top played songs are all bands that were popular before you were born."

"So? I happen to adore Queen and The Cars. Is there anything wrong with that?"

He skimmed through my music library. "Is there any new music on here?"

"I have a few current bands on there. I'm sure you can find them."

"And what are these playlists?" he continued. "Theme Songs, Snow Storms, Musical Montages, Driving While Happy, Driving While Sad," he listed off the names one by one, sounding more and more confused with each one. "What are they for?"

"Oh, those are my soundtrack," I replied, as if the answer should have been obvious. "There's a playlist that will suit pretty much any mood on there. And if something comes up and I can't find the right playlist, I just make a new one."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment on how crazy he probably thought I was. Instead, he simply continued to scroll through the albums. "Nathalie MacLaren? Is this you that I spy?"

"Don't listen to those," I pleaded. "It's just some stupid stuff I've been working on. They're no good, and you'll think less of me after hearing them."

I winced as he hit the play button, and my own voice began to radiate from the computer speakers. The acoustic song was the most haunting thing that I had written, and I found myself shaking at the thought that Bo was hearing it. I didn't want him to judge me over this. I had never claimed to be a musician, but I had decided to have some fun with editing software. I buried my face in the bundle of blankets that I had gathered into my lap. When the song was over, I didn't move.

"Natty," Bo whispered. "That's really good."

"You don't have to lie," I said. "I won't be hurt if it's awful."

"No, really, I like this. Are you sure you want to write books? I think you have a talent in songwriting. It's really nice."

I cuddled up to his side. "If you're trying to suck up, it's kind of working."

"Well that wasn't really my intention, but now that I know it's working..." he let his sentence trail off suggestively and put his arms carefully around my shoulders.

I melted into his form and buried my face in his neck, trailing kisses up his throat and to his jaw. He tilted his head down and pressed his lips against mine. Soon, we were in the same position as we had been that first night in the hotel.

"Tell me something," I paused, pulling back enough that I could clearly see his eyes and observe his reaction.

"Tell you what?"

"What is this, exactly? What are we doing here, Bo? I mean, I really like you, and I want to test the waters, but how long can we keep this up? We don't even live in the same country."

"Natty," he murmured, lowering his voice to a sexy rumble. "I'm not saying that I want this to be some cheap little fling. But do all of the details really matter? We both want this to continue, so we'll find a way to make it work."

Somehow, even though he hadn't really offered a solution at all, it seemed like a good plan. I smiled and kissed him again. Things were starting to get a little more intense when music began playing so loud that it rattled the photographs on my walls. We stopped and looked at one another in confusion, and then I figured it out. Joanna was home, and she likely assumed that we were having sex. I rolled over and beat my fist against the wall with all my strength. The volume decreased slightly, but the mood was completely ruined.

I got up from the bed and walked out into the hallway, banging on Jo's door. The music stopped abruptly, and she answered it with an innocent expression plastered on her face.

"Can I help you?"

"I know what you're doing here, but we're not having sex. I told you before that we haven't done anything yet. Whether you believe me or not is your decision, but come on. This is a little childish, even for us. I can't even talk to him when you've got your music so loud that my pictures are falling off of the walls."

"I'm sure you'll rattle the walls either way," she smirked, slinking back into her bedroom and closing the wall behind her.

I frowned and went back into my room, where Bo was still under the blankets. He had my laptop propped up on his lap again. I felt myself shudder at the thought of what he might find this time around. I dove in between the covers and snuggled up beside him. He was looking through my photos.

"Who's the cute little girl?" he paused on a picture of an ebony-haired five-year-old. She was wearing a white sundress and laughing at me. I happened to be in the background making faces to amuse her.

"That's my niece. My brother got his high school girlfriend pregnant, and they had Jessie. She's a little angel. This was a couple of summers ago. She's seven now."

"Is your brother still with the mother?"

"No. Macus and Suzie split up about six months after Jessie was born. They share custody now. I don't get to see her very much, so I usually spoil her with things that I can't really afford."

Bo began flipping through the pictures again. "She's really adorable. I can see a bit of you in her. Mostly it's the eyes, I think."

"Well I have the same eyes as both of my brothers, so that could be it. I'm impressed that you noticed," I said.

"Do you think I'll get to meet your family?" The wonder in his tone was almost indistinguishable as Joanna turned her music on again.

"There is a very good chance of that happening. Am I going to get to meet yours?"

"If you want to. They're kind of nuts sometimes, but I guess that's to be expected from the people that raised me."

I laughed. "And you think that the people in my family are totally sane? Come on, Bo, be realistic here."

A crooked grin appeared on his face. "I guess every family is a little out there, huh?"

I reached out and closed the screen on the laptop. "That's enough of that for now. If you're going to meet my family, you don't get the advantage of seeing them all beforehand."

Bo chuckled as he set the computer on the floor beside my bed. "Okay then. I guess that makes sense. Except for the part where it doesn't make any sense at all."

"Get used to it. You're the one that has to talk to people for a living. I'm going to be locked up in a room with a computer, trying to come up with some outrageous story that's never been done before. So really, it's okay for me to be crazy," I explained.

He gave me a blank stare for a long moment, then patted my head in a patronizing manner. "It's quiet time now, okay?"

I swatted his hand away. "I say when it's quiet time. And that time is not now. Amuse me, Mr. Comedian."

"You know, I really hate it when people expect me to make jokes all the time. It kind of puts pressure on that I just don't need."

"You chose the wrong profession, then," I countered.

"Why do I have to be the amusing one?" he asked. "I think you should entertain me. How about you do a rap? Now that would be funny."

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that supposed to be a challenge? Because you'll regret that. I'm a master rapper. I don't even know if that's a thing, but I'll prove that I am one if you make me."

"I dare you," he added, his voice dripping with the absurdity of his request.

I got to my feet and did a few quick stretches. "You'll regret this." When he didn't back down, I cleared my throat. "Yo, it's about that time, to break forth the rhythm and the rhyme!" As if I hadn't chosen a stupid enough song, I paired it with the lamest dance moves that I could think of.

Bo's jaw dropped as I sang and danced, loading imaginary sale items into the imaginary shopping cart in my bedroom before imitating a sprinkler, among other things. He was utterly speechless as I belted out the lyrics that nearly nobody else from my generation knew. Growing up with two older brothers had given me an odd assortment of musical knowledge. When I finished, I bowed deeply.

"Was that Marky Mark?" Bo asked, still gaping.

I nodded happily. "Good Vibrations, baby. Mark Wahlberg is the greatest white rapper-turned-actor in history. Notice that I said he was the greatest white one. Let's not forget about Will Smith and Eddie Murphy. And probably several others."

"Why do you know all the words to that song?"

"Because it's awesome," I replied.

"That is fucking spectacular. I wish that I had that videotaped so that I could watch it every single day. I can't even describe how much you made my day just now."

I felt my smile widen. I liked that I could entertain someone who was a professional at doing that very thing. It made me feel like there was a reason that he had decided to pursue something with me. I sat back down on the bed.

"Wait until you hear me sing Eminem. It'll knock your socks off."

He cupped my cheek in his hand and brought his lips to mine so gently that I almost couldn't feel the kiss. "Everything about you knocks my socks off."

"Then you'd better stay under the covers, or your feet will get cold."

Bo laughed, then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down onto the bed with him. This time, we were so lost in our own little world that we couldn't hear Joanna's music playing at all.