Simultaneous // Josh & Jake Kiszka

Chapter Two

9 Months Ago...

The devil paid you a visit on the fourth night. The first two had felt like the vacation you were promised.

Josh, in his infinite wisdom, had turned the road trip to Nashville into a scenic fuck stop.

Pulling over on the side of the road so that he could slip your panties to the side and lay the driver's seat back. Steaming up the windows of his white jeep, leaving finger prints on the glass as you screamed his name.

It had felt like you'd slipped into another world. This road you were on belonged to you and him and you could have stayed on it forever. The anxiety which plagued you didn't exist out there, with the window down and the music turned up. But the road inevitably led you to Nashville. To Jake.

You were road weary and fucked out by the time you pulled into Jake's driveway. Slightly taken aback by the tree lined street and wrap around porch that sat beneath large, imposing windows. You'd been told how big his house was. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight of it. Or Jake, as he appeared at the porch steps, immediately disarming you of all the strength you'd managed to conjour against his watchful eye.

You wanted to be back in the car with Josh. Riding his cock at the side of the road. Anything but this.

This false narrative. This embrace Jake pulled you into, that felt like he was greeting you as a sister or a cousin. Cordially and politely formal. As if he was gaslighting you into believing he'd never looked at you the way he did the first time. You were strangely relieved. But disturbed by it, too.

And it continued to haunt you for the rest of that third night. The way he didn't look at you at all in the way you'd expected. The way he offered you a drink as if you were nothing more than a passing acquaintance.

You were sitting in his music room. Walls lined with guitars and awards. Framed gold discs and memorabilia. More guitars were leaned up in the corner against an ornate wooden piano. The centre of the room was lined with two leather couches facing one another, a glass coffee table in the middle with every liquor you could think of sitting in the centre.

Jake put a vinyl down on the record player, taking a long drag of his cigar. Tilting his head back as he exhaled a plume of smoke. A small glass of bourbon in his same hand.

"I'd like to make a toast!" He announced, raising his glass towards his brother. "To my insanely talented twin. Who continues to somehow create masterpiece after masterpiece. You deserve an oscar, Joshua. It's in the bag this time!"

You watched as Josh lifted his glass into the air, a look of grateful adoration pouring out of him. Making his own remonstrations about his talent, comparing it to Jake's. Diminishing his own in the wake of his brother's in an act of mutual respect.

"I don't know about that." He said bashfully, "But I do have a good feeling about this one. The cast is perfect. The director is amenable. The rest of the crew is a delight to work with. I feel like the next couple of months is going to be a pleasure."

Josh placed his hand on your knee absently. The gesture so small, so subtle and yet you felt his touch like electricity coursing through your veins. You looked towards Jake. He wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention, instead locked in the search for a vinyl he'd been talking about earlier in the evening, before you'd come down from showering off the car smell and road sweat. It felt almost as if your presence wasn't required at all, on Jake's part at least.

Josh didn't seem to notice as he continued his small talk about the movie set he was due to start work on. Both of them batting back and forth with words, talking over each other at points, but neither of them picking up on it. You, in the nook of the couch, sipping your jack and coke as if you were simply their audience.