The Page and the Canvas

By Willow Lemon

Published on Feb 16, 2018

Gay

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CHAPTER NINETEEN

"You can't wait until the last minute next time, understand?!" Mira screamed at Ali, slamming the door shut behind her.

He collapsed on the couch, looking like he was sleep walking. "Go to bed," I told him.

"Gotta eat breakfast together..." he slurred.

I cracked an egg into a bowl. "You need to stop making Mira's life so difficult."

"Pipe down!" Layton came downstairs, looking no better than Ali even though he was waking up from a night's sleep. "Can't you carry on a conversation without yelling? Coffee, please. With a little more milk this time, yesterday's was too black."

"Make it yourself then."

"Morning Alistor." Layton dropped down onto the opposite sofa. Ali made some sort of noise that could've been 'good morning.'

I flipped the coffee pot on because I was a nice guy, not a pushover. This dude was really getting on my nerves, though. Suddenly he was standing there with the milk. "So, you're graduating early?"

"Yeah."

"Where will you work?"

I went back to the eggs. "Not sure, yet. I know what I want to do, but I should probably do something else until I become a famous artist."

"You're really putting zero effort into your future, huh? Unbelievable. Isn't that a little irresponsible?"

"Yeah, going to college with two majors and graduating early with a 4.0 GPA, real irresponsible," I bit back sardonically.

"Knock it off! I'm tired!" Ali bellowed from the living room.

He was right. I shouldn't waste my time on Layton. And the longer I took with breakfast, the longer before Ali could go to bed. "Sorry, Ali. I'll get breakfast done."

"I'm tired," he muttered again, and then he straight up tipped over and passed out on the couch.


After somehow getting Ali to bed, I was in my room gathering up what I needed for school. I'll be honest, I really don't like Layton. But the thing is, he's got a point; I probably should start planning for the future now, especially since it looks like I will be graduating much earlier than I thought.

A knock sounded on my door. "You're off to school already?"

"I only put you to bed an hour ago."

Ali came in and shut the door. "Don't let Layton get to you. He's always been rude."

"It's all good. Well, not really, but it's fine."

"Kip, have you decided yet?"

"On what?"

"Whether you'll stay here or leave."

I had actually been doing my best not to think about it. "I don't know yet. Damn!" Why was I getting mad at him for asking? "I have to get a job before I can worry about that, right?" I slammed a book into my bag.

"I can recommend a place that'll set you up for life and never lay you off."

I looked at him, perplexed. "What? Where?"

He pointed to himself. "Me. I'll give you permanent employment."

I sighed. He was too good to me. Going over I pecked him on the lips. "Thanks. Supporting myself is just something I need to do. I'm sure you understand."


I was walking over to the cafeteria after class when Trae walked out of a classroom and we came face to face. I was so excited to see him again that I had to stop myself from launching into an immediate discussion about Galileo Galactic. Instead I mumbled, "Uh, thanks again for helping me out the other day."

"Ah, no need to thank me." He started to walk off and I found myself disappointed. "Hey." He turned back. "Have you read today's new issue yet?"

"Holy shit!" I was so loud people turned to look. Trae let me read his issue, that I had planned on buying after school, while we ate lunch. Well, he ate, I read.

"I know, right?! It's my new favorite issue!"

"It's amazing! I'm definitely having him sign this issue at the autograph session. I'm so psyched that you won tickets to the session, too. It's going to be stellar!"

"Haha, yes! Stellar! Christian, from the series, favorite catch word!"

"Damn, dude. I haven't even introduced myself. Kip Lexington." I offered him my hand.

He shook it. "Trae Tuttle."

We left the cafeteria together. He was done for the day. "I'm taking kendo. I'm headed there now. I figure if I can't get a job with my art degree, I can become a ninja cop or something," he laughed.

"I guess it's good to have a back-up. My only hobby outside of art is graphic novels. If art doesn't work out, I'm screwed," I joked. I was kidding around, but nevertheless my stomach turned at the thought. * * *

Reporting to Mira when I reached work, she looked worse than Ali had this morning; ready to keel over at any moment. "Mira? Can I do something to help?"

Her eyes focused on me. "Kip?"

"Are you alright?"

"Who cares if I don't sleep for three days, as long as we can publish Mr. Smoak's work..." she observed in almost a trance. Taking a gulp of Red Bull, she noticed the issue of Galileo Galactic I was holding. "You know, the graphic novels department is looking for a permanent part-timer. You like graphic novels? I'll call them for you. I bet they'll interview you right away." She picked up her phone and pressed an extension. "Hi. It's Mira..."

Graphic novels department? I guess that'd be pretty cool. Ali and Tavis didn't want me working, and only agreed to let me work for Mira because it was temporary. But maybe I could consider it a back-up plan to my art. I might even be able to get it to count toward the internship I was going to get next semester. They couldn't refuse if it was for school, and possibly my future. Like Trae was saying, use my hobby as a back-up plan. This could work.

Later, when I returned home, I still had my bag on my shoulder when Ali came over carrying a mug of coffee and smoking a cigarette. "I heard you interviewed at Penguin today."

"Um, yeah." That was fast. Damn Mira.

He didn't look upset, though. "How did it go?"

"Well, I think the interviewer liked me, but his questions were...weird. 'Do you have physical stamina? How long do you usually sleep at night? What's the most all-nighters you've ever pulled in a row? Do you need to bathe every day?' Kind of terrifying."

The doorbell rang before we could get more into it. "Is that Layton." I went over to answer it.

The door was barely open before Karis was bitching me out. "Kip, I texted you a million times! Why didn't you come pick me up?!" She charged into the apartment, bag in tow.

I didn't even say anything, unless you counted an eyeroll to Ali, and went into the kitchen to make tea.

"I called you to say I was coming to the US on vacation, Alistor!"

"I forgot," was his unremorseful answer.

"Which I foresaw, which is why I texted Kip."

"Sorry. I guess I didn't hear my phone. It's loud at work." Trying to change the subject I asked her, "So, Karis, you forced that patissier to make you apprentice, right?"

"That's right." She smiled proudly. "I camped out in front of the shop for a week until I got my way."

"You're amazing," I cajoled.

"Whatever, just finish your tea and go home." Ali was Mr. Personality.

"What's your problem?! I..."

"I'm home." Layton walked through the door.

"Layton, what are you doing here?" She did not look pleased to see him.

"What are you doing here?" He returned her glare.

"I came to visit Kip. Did you get fired or something, then?"

"Are you stupid? I'm on vacation, obviously. You never stop being a pain."

I was starting to get a headache. Can't Ali do something about these two? Looking over at him, I could almost see the dark cloud settling around him as he puffed on his cigarette.

"You never lose your bad personality," Karis snapped.

"It's better than yours." Layton's cell rang. "Excuse me, work calls. I'm a busy guy, unlike some people."

"What do you mean by that, exactly?!" Karis called after him as he took the phone a few feet away.

"Bonjour? Oui c'est moi." I found his ability to speak fluent French annoying. I tried to pretend like I didn't know the reason it irritated me was because I wished I could to so that I could speak it with Ali. My bad for not being educated in France, I guess. I wasn't picking it up on the Duolingo app fast enough.

Karis came into the kitchen where I was trying to decide what to do for dinner now that we had an extra person. "Kip, I'm baking a cake tomorrow. You may help me."

"Okay, sure."

"I want to test a recipe I got. Can we get these ingredients around here?" She unfolded a list.

Ali, who saw an opportunity to make a break for it, was about to head upstairs, when Layton ran up behind him and threw his arms around him. "Alistor, I'm in trouble! Help me!" Dramatic much?

"What's with you? Back off." Ali elbowed him in the ribs.

Layton didn't let go, pressing his cheek to Ali's shoulder. "I got an email from a German client, so I want you to check what he's saying." And I actually couldn't believe it when he looked over at me and smirked. Despite the action's pathetic pettiness, I still had the urge to kick him in the nuts.

"Not my problem. It's work, so forward it to someone at the company."

He finally released Ali. "I'm not confident about my German. Please? I'm begging you!" What an asshole.

"Oh, and I want this, too. Hey, are you listening?" Karis was still talking about cake ingredients.

"Hmmm? Yeah, right. I wonder if we'll need to go to more than one store." We started to head for the door to leave.

Ali, who was now at the kitchen table with Layton's laptop, called out, "Kip, if you're going shopping, I'll get the car."

"You don't have to." I wanted him to, though, so he'd come with me and leave Layton here.

"You spoil him too much, Alistor. And you let him do it too much, Kip." Layton, of course, had to contribute.

"How long are you going to be here, anyway? Go home already." Ali was on edge and Layton's shitty comments weren't helping. He was pushing Ali's generosity.

"Yeah, you're asking him to spoil you, too!" Karis added.

"Lay off! I've got reason to be here!" he yelled at her.

That caught Ali's attention. "Reason? What reason is that?"

Layton was so worked up he let slip, "Uncle François said..."

"François?" I asked when he didn't finish.

"What does it matter?! There's no reason for me to leave if Karis gets to stay!" He sounded like a child. He went upstairs to the guest room and slammed the door.

He was in league with François? Why didn't this surprise me? Somehow, it was possible for me to like him less.


The next morning, when everyone had left and the apartment was empty, I went into my study and called my father.

"I think this is the first time you've ever called me Alistor," was how he answered the phone.

"I'll keep this all business. Layton is crashing at my place. Did you send him here?"

"Why would I?"

I guess I shouldn't have expected him to admit it. I just wanted to hear what he'd say. "I see. Well, then, excuse me."

I tried to hang up, but he inquired, "How is Kip, by the way?"

"Fine. And that concludes my business."

He ignored me. "Will he get his own place once he gets a job?"

So, Layton was reporting to him. How else would he have known that Kip was most likely graduating early? "No. He'll be staying here."

"Is that what he wants?"

"None of this is your business, Father."

"Ah, so that's just what you want. But I assume even Kip has free will, things probably won't turn out the way you want."

"Thanks for that. Well, as much fun as this has been..."

"Essentially, you have no confidence, so you can't let him go, correct? If it upsets you when he's not right nearby you, that just means your relationship is too fragile to last, doesn't it?" And then I did what I'd wished I'd done two minutes ago, hung up.


"Hi. I'm Kip. I'm supposed to be working in here today." The next day Mira sent me to the graphic novel department to help out to see how I liked it.

"Yeah, over here!" a girl in her late twenties wearing a long-sleeved tee, jeans, and Converse waved me over. "I'm Kim." When I was seated next to her at a desk, she put stacks of rubber-banded postcards in front of me. "We're going to have you sort these surveys for us. Divide them up by author and copy them." She pointed over to their copier in the corner.

"Alright, got it."

"Great, thanks." She left me to it.

Upon first impressions, it was pretty cool. There were story boards everywhere, with people pining and unpinning panels. Down the center of the row of desks was a long row of binders, that I could see from a few that were open on desktops, were original manuscripts. And their tech was awesome, giant screens that resembled draft tables where artwork was being done, colored in, or added to. And everyone seemed to be carrying an iPad. There was a fair share of people that looked frazzled, but plenty of others were smiling and laughing. For a back-up plan, it didn't seem too bad.


"Hey, eat your peppers next time." I looked at the tiny stack of green peppers on the side of Ali's plate that he had just brought me at the sink. When he didn't come back with a retort, I turned to where he stood at the coffee pot and found him staring at me with an odd expression on his mien. "What?"

"Nothing." He leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee.

Before I could press him, Karis called from the front door, "Kip! Give me a hand!" She was caring grocery sacks, apparently finding what we couldn't last night.

Taking out the footstool, I told her to, "Give me a sec." I climbed up to put a Tupperware bin on top of the cabinets.

"What'd you say?" She apparently hadn't heard me.

Turning my head in her direction, about to repeat myself, my toe slipped off the edge of the footstool, and before I knew it, I was falling back.

Ali was there. He encircled an arm around my waist and easily caught me. Him catching me, more than my falling, made my heart skip a beat. But then something weird happened, usually he used any excuse to pull me to him, he released me immediately and backed off. I hadn't even found my footing yet, so I stumbled and hit my hip against the counter.

"Are you okay?" Karis came rushing into the kitchen.

"Ah, y-yeah." He was giving me that odd look again. What's going on? He's not acting like himself. I gave him a questioning look, but he just went and sat down in the living room.

An hour later I was helping Karis with her cake and I kept making small mistakes, irritating her. "Hey! Quit spacing out!" she chastised as I stood holding the cake batter over the springform pan I was supposed to be pouring it into, but was instead staring unseeing at the counter.

"S-sorry." I started pouring. "Listen, Karis..."

"What now?"

"Did Ali say anything about me today?" How embarrassing to have to ask.

"No, not to me."

Why was he acting so strangely? It was hard to put my finger on it, but I had lived with Ali long enough that I knew something was off. He won't make eye contact with me, for starters. Historically speaking, that means something bad is going on. I knew I wasn't worrying over nothing.

Karis made a squeal. "I accidentally flicked some cream." Her hand was at the side of her head trying to find it in her hair.

"Here, I'll get it." I wet a dish towel and wiped it out of her hair.

"What are you doing?" Layton asked contemptuously from the sofa. "You're such a slacker. How do you have time to bake cakes, Mr. 'I'm graduating early?'"

"Shut up, jerk! I asked for his help." Karis shot daggers at him. "You just keep your annoying mouth shut!"

"Shut up, ugly."

"Who are you calling ugly?!" Her voice was growing louder.

"Can't blame me for speaking the truth!" he shot back at her.

"Excuse me?!" she shouted.

"Chill out, you guys..." I attempted to lower the decibel level in here before Ali lost his mind.

"Shut up Kip!"

"Stay out of it!"

Too late. "You two have ten seconds to get the hell out!" Ali screamed at them. Oh, shit.

Karis, her attention still on me, choose to get mad at me even though I was the only one not yelling at her. "Kip, you've been annoying all evening! Get out of here already!" Then Hurricane Karis grabbed both me and Ali's elbows (presumably because we were closest) and somehow pushed us out the front door, slamming it behind us and locking the deadbolt.

"What just happened? Why did we get kicked out?" I mean, Layton was the one calling her ugly.

"Want to go on a drive?" Ali asked without looking at me.

I didn't answer. I just followed him out to the car. We didn't talk the entire drive. He was obviously taking us somewhere because he was taking exits that didn't seem random. We ended up at the beach.

We walked along the shore, the air was quiet and still. What's wrong with him? He hasn't said a word in ages. I hated this sinking feeling I had. I knew he was irritated about Layton and Karis being here, but I don't think that's the only issue. It had to be me. I was the only one he wasn't looking at. I watched him light a cigarette and tried to think of what I did, but I couldn't come up with anything that would upset him enough to not talk to me.

My feet stopped walking. "Listen, Ali... Did I do something to piss you off?" He turned back to me. "You've been acting funny ever since I got home today."

"It's nothing." He started walking again.

I didn't. "I-if you've got a problem, spit it out!" I was getting worked up. He turned back to me again. "You always go all angsty and bottle everything up instead of telling me. That's a big problem for me."

He put his hand on my head. "There's no need to shout."

I angrily brushed his hand away. "Wh-who do you think is making me shout?" This time I turned from him, looking out over the water. "Really, you should tell me if there's something bothering you. Tell me! If you don't tell me, I don't know. If it's me, if I'm causing you problems I don't know about, I'm seriously not okay with that."

At last he started talking, gazing out over the water with me. "I spoke to my father today about Layton. He denied any involvement, but, you know how he is, he had to question me about you. He said, 'If it upsets you when he's not right nearby you, that just means your relationship is too fragile to last, doesn't it?' He caught me off guard, frankly. I'd never thought about that before."

"Wait. Are you talking about me moving out after graduation?" I searched his face and found the stress there.

"It's more basic than that. So, I thought it over for the first time. I think that if our relationship dies when we live apart, it wasn't strong enough in the first place. I still don't intend to let you go, Kip, but I don't want my selfishness to limit your future either."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" I was confused. He was confusing me.

"What do you think you should do?" He still wasn't looking at me.

"Why do I have to decide now? I can't know until the time comes!" I hated this pressure of the unknown. Everything could be different a year and a half from now. "And besides, maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"You never know what'll happen in life, so...maybe you'll start feeling like I'm in the way." That's what I really thought would happen way before I got a job after graduation.

"That will never happen."

"But...what if..."

"It won't." He sounded so certain. "My parents told me once, 'You've always had too much, which makes you the type who never gets what he really wants.'" He at last looked at me. "But I did get you. Why would I let you go?"

What was I supposed to say to that? Seriously. A person can't just go around saying the perfect thing that fixes the tiny crack of doubt you had in your heart that made him perfect for you. Now I was annoyed with him for being perfect. I kicked sand at him. "You wanna help me build a sand mountain?" I had no idea what to do, so I did something ridiculous.

I dropped to my knees and starting heaping sand into a pile. At first, he looked at me like I'd lost my mind, but then he pushed up the sleeves of his gray sweater and helped. When we had it built up and patted down smooth, I instructed, "Okay, now slowly dig a hole starting from that side and I'll dig on my side. When we open a tunnel through this mountain you'll taste one of life's true joys."

As we dug he asked, "How was work today?"

"Today I sorted surveys. Oh, and guess what? I saw an original manuscript. It's definitely different from the copies. It had real impact."

"Oh? That's good."

"It looks like a tough job working in there, but it seems fun. I kind of want to give it a shot. But, I mean, no way could I get a job with so much competition."

"Why not? If you like the job even a little, you should give it a shot. When you fight hard and fail, that regret is easier to get past than a regret for not trying."

"Yeah, I know you're right." Ali made me feel like I could do anything I want. "A-about what you said, you don't have to worry about that stuff, okay? I don't think I'll ever feel like you're 'in the way' either. So, at the moment, I'm thinking I'll probably want to stay with you." There, I said it...I decided.

That was the moment the we reached the middle of the tunnel and our hands touched. He grabbed mine and pulled me closer, kissing me. "Kip."

"What?"

"Say it again?"

"Say what?"

"What you just said. What I wanted to hear so badly." Coming around the mound, he brushed his hands off and knelt next to me. Placing a hand on my cheek, he told me, "You really do piss me off." He meshed his lips with mine, his tongue dancing with mine, he laid me down. "Look at me, one word from a brat nine years my junior can control my every mood."

No, I'm the one who's pissed off, I thought as he kissed down my throat. For being at the mercy of his every word. Why did he have to be so damned perfect? Every little thing he said and did caused a reaction from me that had me begging for more. More of Ali, with him, for always.


We got a hotel room because we decided the sand was too much of an abrasive to make love on then and there, and we didn't want to go home. Our love making was different than usual. We didn't rush. It was slow and tender, with kisses and caresses at every moment. There was no racing or dirty talk, only the rhythm of our hearts and I love you's.

Karis looked as though she had been waiting by the door all night. "What were you thinking, staying out all night together? You should be ashamed!"

Ali ignored her and went and sat on the couch, lighting a cigarette. "Sorry? But you were the one who kicked us out."

"So?" She glowered at me.

Okay then. "Did you finish the cake? We can do it after breakfast."

"Naturally I waited for you! Plus, you have to take me on a date as an apology."

"Date?" I looked at Ali for help. She knew we were together. He just smiled, chuckling to himself.

"I'm free on the fourth," she continued.

Shoo! An out. "Oh, sorry, I'm going to a signing in San Diego that day."

"Signing?"

"Yeah, for a graphic novelist I like." I was so relieved.

"I'd like to see what this 'graphic novelist' is made of. Take me with you to San Diego."

Oh, hell no! "Ah, no, um, I'm going with a friend, so..." My relief evaporated.

Layton came downstairs. "I've never been to San Diego. Maybe I'll join you."

"No, you can't!" From relief to high stress and dread.

"Tickets for four to San Diego on the fourth, reserved," Ali commented from the couch where he was apparently booking tickets on his laptop.

No!!!

Next: Chapter 20


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