nine (jared)
Nov. 9th, 2010 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smackenzieSundays, as far as Jared was concerned, were for two things: sleeping late and tinkering with his bikes. And sometime mowing the lawn. Or running all the errands he didn't have time to run during the week or on Saturday. Or going to the grocery store. Or calling his mom.
(She checked her email regularly, as did Jared's dad, but she still liked for him to call. He'd put the dogs on the phone so she could say hi to them and they could bark at her and try to lick it.)
This Sunday was apparently for sleeping late but also for waiting on Aldis and Beth to come get him and take him to Beth's friend's art show. He knew they were picking him up to guarantee that he actually went.
"Tom said he'd go," Aldis had said over the phone that morning, when he called to make sure Jared was actually awake. "He even said he'd bring Mike."
"Katie's gonna wish she came," Jared answered, yawning. Mike was one of Tom's housemates but Katie was convinced he was really Tom's boyfriend. She took great delight in teasing Tom about it, partly because it flustered him and partly because she really seemed to want it to be true. "Why aren't you picking him up? I want to ride my Harley."
"Blame Beth, man, not me. It's supposed to rain anyway."
Jared went into the back yard and looked up at the sky. It was hazy but not necessarily in an oncoming-rainstorm kind of way. "I can ride in the rain."
"Think of it as now we owe you a favor. We'll be there about twelve-thirty. Show opens at one."
"Ok, ok. I'll be dressed."
He hung up, changed out of his pajamas, and took the dogs for a walk. He'd made a point to buy a house with a yard - they were two of the reasons he needed a house in the first place - but he felt that he should still take them out into the world so that they'd learn to deal with new and exciting sounds and smells and people, so that when strangers came to the house they didn't freak out. He also thought if they were familiar with the neighborhood, they wouldn't disappear if they ever managed to get out of the house off a leash.
(His other reasons for needing a house were in the garage - the Triumph, which he'd named Elizabeth, and the shell of the Ariel, which he'd named Pearl.)
The dogs were rescues, mostly mutts - Harley was a lot of rhodesian ridgeback and Sadie was at least partly german shepherd - and Jared loved them a lot. The worst part of him moving to Nashville was that it was a couple of years of living without them.
Now he just took them down the street for ten minutes, back to the house, and down the other way to Jeff's house, so they could say hi to Jeff and Hilarie and their dogs. Well, technically Jeff's dogs - he'd had Bisou, the older dog, longer than he'd known Hilarie.
Hilarie had gone out for a run - "Crazy, I know," Jeff said - so Jared and his dogs hung out in the back yard with Jeff and his dogs for a little while, and then he went back home to shower and have some lunch. He had no idea what kind of food you might get at an art gallery opening, but he figured probably not much. And while he didn't think he still counted as a growing boy, he liked regular meals and lots of them.
Beth's first words when he came out of the house after her honk were "What are you wearing?"
"Uh... clothes?" he said, looking down at his t-shirt and jeans. "Flip-flops?"
"I like the t-shirt," Aldis said.
"Sandy got it for me. She saw it online and ordered it as a surprise." It was a plain white tee with a drawing of a guy in a Star Wars X-wing fighter holding a bunch of dogs by their leashes, and the words "Luke Dogwalker" underneath. It was the perfect shirt for a Star Wars fan and dog person. And Jared didn't think he really needed to dress up for an art gallery - it was some little random place in East Nashville, which was not exactly the high-rent district. Besides, this shirt was clean.
It didn't take them long to find a place to park, and the gallery when they walked in was already pretty full. Jared didn't see Tom or Mike anywhere, although he did see someone who looked a lot like Jim from the back, and he patiently let Beth introduce him to what felt like every single person in the place, none of whom seemed to be the artist they'd actually come to support.
"Where's Matthew?" she asked a red-haired woman wearing a blue polka-dotted dress with a crinoline under the skirt.
"Directing traffic, if you can imagine," the woman said. "Have you - Pauley!" She waved at someone in the crowd, said "Excuse me, I need to go say hi," and bounded off.
"Still not as bad as the performance art thing," Aldis said to Jared under his breath. Jared nodded. "We're gonna go look at the art," he told Beth. "You talk to your friends."
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You're going to hide in a corner and make fun, you mean." But there was only fond and familiar frustration in her voice. "Just say hi to Matthew so he knows I brought you, ok? Someday this could be my work" - she waved at the paintings hanging on the walls - "and I'm going to want him to bring everyone he knows."
"So, like, half of Nashville, right?" Aldis grinned.
"Something like that." She grinned back, and then the red-haired woman reappeared, put her hand on Beth's arm, and gestured to the front door, where a guy in suspenders and a bad haircut (not that Jared could talk) was walking in. "Come on." Beth grabbed Aldis with one hand and Jared with the other and dragged them to meet the artist.
He gave Beth a hug, then Aldis, then Jared - much to Jared's surprise - said "I was just helping someone park her car" - and then thanked them all for coming to his opening.
Jared didn't know the first thing about contemporary art, much less cartoony watercolor contemporary art, but it was interesting listening to an artist talk about their work where you could actually see what they were talking about. Some of the creatures had names, which Jared thought was kind of cute, and some of the portraits were unrecognizable until Matthew explained who they were - Jared never would've guessed the painting of Beth was really her.
"Someone already wants to buy that," Matthew told her excitedly. She looked at Aldis, who shook his head. "I'll paint you another one for your birthday."
After about ten minutes Matthew was pulled away by someone else and Beth left Aldis and Jared to their own devices. They found the refreshments - red wine in a box, orange punch, fish crackers - but only got three minutes of peace before Beth reappeared and dragged Aldis off to talk to someone about watches or something Jared didn't quite catch. Which left him by himself with a handful of crackers and a plastic cup of what tasted a lot like Kool-Aid.
They all drank the Kool-Aid, he thought, looking around at all the people chatting and apparently admiring the art. He chuckled.
"'Scuse me," someone said from his blind spot, "is that spiked?" A stranger's hand was pointing to Jared's cup. He followed the hand up an arm and to a face that looked weirdly familiar.
"Nope," he said. "I think it's just Kool-Aid. Is that what people serve at art shows?"
"I have no idea," the stranger said. He tilted his head. "You look familiar."
"So do you." Jared thought. How could he know this guy? A class? A customer at the garage? A friend of a friend?
"Longhorns!"
"Huh?"
"Marietta's. The coffeeshop near Vanderbilt. You came in a few nights ago. I made you a coffee. Uh. Shit. I can't remember your name."
"Jared," Jared said. "Now I remember. You're from Houston. UT Austin, right?"
"Yeah. Well, Dallas. You were wearing a Longhorns t-shirt. I like the one you've got on now, by the way." He gestured to Jared's shirt.
"Thanks. I'm really more of a Han Solo kinda guy, but my friend got this for me and it's not like I was going to tell her that, y'know? I have two dogs, that's one of the reasons I got it. Hey. I forgot your name too."
"Oh, sorry, Jensen. Nice to meet you again."
"Same here. Do you know, um, Matthew, that's his name. Or anyone here?"
"Sort of. A guy I work with is friends with him and he tried to get everyone from the coffeeshop to come. I don't know where he went, but the blonde girl over there" - he pointed - "that's Alona, and I'm pretty sure the woman who owns the place is here, I think my manager said she was going to come. But I don't know anyone else. Besides you, now." He grinned. If Jared swung that way, he'd think the guy was actually kind of hot.
(There was in fact some thought that he might swing that way, but now really wasn't the time to examine his sexual preferences.)
"What about you?" Jensen asked. "I'm going to guess that if you're standing way back here by yourself, you don't really know anyone either."
"Yeah, not really. I came with a guy I work with and his girlfriend - she's a friend of Matthew's - she's a photographer and I guess she knows a lot of artists. At least it seems like she knows everyone here. I don't even know what to think about this stuff. It's really not my kind of thing. I'm not, like, Mr Art Appreciation or anything."
"I know a guy who could probably talk your ear off about it, but I don't get it either. I don't hate it, though. Some of the creature things are kind of interesting."
"They remind me of, like, comic strip bugs or something, like they came from a cartoon. Like kids' art but... not. I probably would've loved this stuff when I was ten."
"But not now?"
"I don't know. The more I look at it, the more I kind of like it."
"It's really crowded in here, though."
Jared's stomach rumbled. Apparently he hadn't had enough to eat before Beth and Aldis picked him up. Jensen looked a little surprised. Jared laughed at himself.
"I guess a handful of goldfish isn't enough of a lunch," Jensen said.
"I guess not. Do you wanna go get something to eat? I mean, you don't look like you're fully engaged with the art and I just... want to go somewhere else." He had to laugh at himself again for that phrasing and made a mental note to pay closer attention to the blogs he was reading. Misha must have sent him a link to whichever one had used "fully engaged".
And this gallery and the people in it weren't his scene, and their apparent knowledge of current art trends was making him feel a little self-conscious and very aware of how little he really knew about this kind of thing. And now that he remembered who Jensen was, he remembered liking the guy for the few minutes they talked in the coffeeshop, and he wouldn't mind talking more.
Jared couldn't talk arty bullshit. He felt a little out of his element. And Jensen didn't look incredibly comfortable either.
And besides, he was hungry, and in a lot of situations, food trumped all.
words: 1991
total words: 16,249
(this is Jared's t-shirt, altho I made his short-sleeved and without the black collar.)
(She checked her email regularly, as did Jared's dad, but she still liked for him to call. He'd put the dogs on the phone so she could say hi to them and they could bark at her and try to lick it.)
This Sunday was apparently for sleeping late but also for waiting on Aldis and Beth to come get him and take him to Beth's friend's art show. He knew they were picking him up to guarantee that he actually went.
"Tom said he'd go," Aldis had said over the phone that morning, when he called to make sure Jared was actually awake. "He even said he'd bring Mike."
"Katie's gonna wish she came," Jared answered, yawning. Mike was one of Tom's housemates but Katie was convinced he was really Tom's boyfriend. She took great delight in teasing Tom about it, partly because it flustered him and partly because she really seemed to want it to be true. "Why aren't you picking him up? I want to ride my Harley."
"Blame Beth, man, not me. It's supposed to rain anyway."
Jared went into the back yard and looked up at the sky. It was hazy but not necessarily in an oncoming-rainstorm kind of way. "I can ride in the rain."
"Think of it as now we owe you a favor. We'll be there about twelve-thirty. Show opens at one."
"Ok, ok. I'll be dressed."
He hung up, changed out of his pajamas, and took the dogs for a walk. He'd made a point to buy a house with a yard - they were two of the reasons he needed a house in the first place - but he felt that he should still take them out into the world so that they'd learn to deal with new and exciting sounds and smells and people, so that when strangers came to the house they didn't freak out. He also thought if they were familiar with the neighborhood, they wouldn't disappear if they ever managed to get out of the house off a leash.
(His other reasons for needing a house were in the garage - the Triumph, which he'd named Elizabeth, and the shell of the Ariel, which he'd named Pearl.)
The dogs were rescues, mostly mutts - Harley was a lot of rhodesian ridgeback and Sadie was at least partly german shepherd - and Jared loved them a lot. The worst part of him moving to Nashville was that it was a couple of years of living without them.
Now he just took them down the street for ten minutes, back to the house, and down the other way to Jeff's house, so they could say hi to Jeff and Hilarie and their dogs. Well, technically Jeff's dogs - he'd had Bisou, the older dog, longer than he'd known Hilarie.
Hilarie had gone out for a run - "Crazy, I know," Jeff said - so Jared and his dogs hung out in the back yard with Jeff and his dogs for a little while, and then he went back home to shower and have some lunch. He had no idea what kind of food you might get at an art gallery opening, but he figured probably not much. And while he didn't think he still counted as a growing boy, he liked regular meals and lots of them.
Beth's first words when he came out of the house after her honk were "What are you wearing?"
"Uh... clothes?" he said, looking down at his t-shirt and jeans. "Flip-flops?"
"I like the t-shirt," Aldis said.
"Sandy got it for me. She saw it online and ordered it as a surprise." It was a plain white tee with a drawing of a guy in a Star Wars X-wing fighter holding a bunch of dogs by their leashes, and the words "Luke Dogwalker" underneath. It was the perfect shirt for a Star Wars fan and dog person. And Jared didn't think he really needed to dress up for an art gallery - it was some little random place in East Nashville, which was not exactly the high-rent district. Besides, this shirt was clean.
It didn't take them long to find a place to park, and the gallery when they walked in was already pretty full. Jared didn't see Tom or Mike anywhere, although he did see someone who looked a lot like Jim from the back, and he patiently let Beth introduce him to what felt like every single person in the place, none of whom seemed to be the artist they'd actually come to support.
"Where's Matthew?" she asked a red-haired woman wearing a blue polka-dotted dress with a crinoline under the skirt.
"Directing traffic, if you can imagine," the woman said. "Have you - Pauley!" She waved at someone in the crowd, said "Excuse me, I need to go say hi," and bounded off.
"Still not as bad as the performance art thing," Aldis said to Jared under his breath. Jared nodded. "We're gonna go look at the art," he told Beth. "You talk to your friends."
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You're going to hide in a corner and make fun, you mean." But there was only fond and familiar frustration in her voice. "Just say hi to Matthew so he knows I brought you, ok? Someday this could be my work" - she waved at the paintings hanging on the walls - "and I'm going to want him to bring everyone he knows."
"So, like, half of Nashville, right?" Aldis grinned.
"Something like that." She grinned back, and then the red-haired woman reappeared, put her hand on Beth's arm, and gestured to the front door, where a guy in suspenders and a bad haircut (not that Jared could talk) was walking in. "Come on." Beth grabbed Aldis with one hand and Jared with the other and dragged them to meet the artist.
He gave Beth a hug, then Aldis, then Jared - much to Jared's surprise - said "I was just helping someone park her car" - and then thanked them all for coming to his opening.
Jared didn't know the first thing about contemporary art, much less cartoony watercolor contemporary art, but it was interesting listening to an artist talk about their work where you could actually see what they were talking about. Some of the creatures had names, which Jared thought was kind of cute, and some of the portraits were unrecognizable until Matthew explained who they were - Jared never would've guessed the painting of Beth was really her.
"Someone already wants to buy that," Matthew told her excitedly. She looked at Aldis, who shook his head. "I'll paint you another one for your birthday."
After about ten minutes Matthew was pulled away by someone else and Beth left Aldis and Jared to their own devices. They found the refreshments - red wine in a box, orange punch, fish crackers - but only got three minutes of peace before Beth reappeared and dragged Aldis off to talk to someone about watches or something Jared didn't quite catch. Which left him by himself with a handful of crackers and a plastic cup of what tasted a lot like Kool-Aid.
They all drank the Kool-Aid, he thought, looking around at all the people chatting and apparently admiring the art. He chuckled.
"'Scuse me," someone said from his blind spot, "is that spiked?" A stranger's hand was pointing to Jared's cup. He followed the hand up an arm and to a face that looked weirdly familiar.
"Nope," he said. "I think it's just Kool-Aid. Is that what people serve at art shows?"
"I have no idea," the stranger said. He tilted his head. "You look familiar."
"So do you." Jared thought. How could he know this guy? A class? A customer at the garage? A friend of a friend?
"Longhorns!"
"Huh?"
"Marietta's. The coffeeshop near Vanderbilt. You came in a few nights ago. I made you a coffee. Uh. Shit. I can't remember your name."
"Jared," Jared said. "Now I remember. You're from Houston. UT Austin, right?"
"Yeah. Well, Dallas. You were wearing a Longhorns t-shirt. I like the one you've got on now, by the way." He gestured to Jared's shirt.
"Thanks. I'm really more of a Han Solo kinda guy, but my friend got this for me and it's not like I was going to tell her that, y'know? I have two dogs, that's one of the reasons I got it. Hey. I forgot your name too."
"Oh, sorry, Jensen. Nice to meet you again."
"Same here. Do you know, um, Matthew, that's his name. Or anyone here?"
"Sort of. A guy I work with is friends with him and he tried to get everyone from the coffeeshop to come. I don't know where he went, but the blonde girl over there" - he pointed - "that's Alona, and I'm pretty sure the woman who owns the place is here, I think my manager said she was going to come. But I don't know anyone else. Besides you, now." He grinned. If Jared swung that way, he'd think the guy was actually kind of hot.
(There was in fact some thought that he might swing that way, but now really wasn't the time to examine his sexual preferences.)
"What about you?" Jensen asked. "I'm going to guess that if you're standing way back here by yourself, you don't really know anyone either."
"Yeah, not really. I came with a guy I work with and his girlfriend - she's a friend of Matthew's - she's a photographer and I guess she knows a lot of artists. At least it seems like she knows everyone here. I don't even know what to think about this stuff. It's really not my kind of thing. I'm not, like, Mr Art Appreciation or anything."
"I know a guy who could probably talk your ear off about it, but I don't get it either. I don't hate it, though. Some of the creature things are kind of interesting."
"They remind me of, like, comic strip bugs or something, like they came from a cartoon. Like kids' art but... not. I probably would've loved this stuff when I was ten."
"But not now?"
"I don't know. The more I look at it, the more I kind of like it."
"It's really crowded in here, though."
Jared's stomach rumbled. Apparently he hadn't had enough to eat before Beth and Aldis picked him up. Jensen looked a little surprised. Jared laughed at himself.
"I guess a handful of goldfish isn't enough of a lunch," Jensen said.
"I guess not. Do you wanna go get something to eat? I mean, you don't look like you're fully engaged with the art and I just... want to go somewhere else." He had to laugh at himself again for that phrasing and made a mental note to pay closer attention to the blogs he was reading. Misha must have sent him a link to whichever one had used "fully engaged".
And this gallery and the people in it weren't his scene, and their apparent knowledge of current art trends was making him feel a little self-conscious and very aware of how little he really knew about this kind of thing. And now that he remembered who Jensen was, he remembered liking the guy for the few minutes they talked in the coffeeshop, and he wouldn't mind talking more.
Jared couldn't talk arty bullshit. He felt a little out of his element. And Jensen didn't look incredibly comfortable either.
And besides, he was hungry, and in a lot of situations, food trumped all.
words: 1991
total words: 16,249
(this is Jared's t-shirt, altho I made his short-sleeved and without the black collar.)
