*I Won't Pretend I Don't Exist* Brian Haner

*Chapter Ten* Clear Nail Polish is Magic and Memories Repeating

    I woke up the next morning and it took me a long time to remember that I was in Brian’s bed instead of my own. I stretched out and winced at the soreness of my body. Time to assess the damage done from my practice session yesterday. I stood up slowly and, taking my clothes with me, walked to the bathroom, careful not to step on Hamlet, who was still lying in the middle of the doorway. I closed the door behind me and undressed, looking at myself in the mirror.

    Basically, the only parts of me not covered in light bruises were my face and the palms of my hands. Everywhere else had either light purple circles or dark rings where I had taken more than several hits. I got dressed in my clothes, keeping Brian’s shirt on and went downstairs to find something for breakfast. I looked around the kitchen and found stuff to make pancakes with. I smiled to myself and got to work, adding oatmeal and peanut butter to the mix, making Krystin’s favorite pancakes. I turned on the griddle and waited for it to heat up before I started to make the pancakes. I got the coffee started and poured some orange juice. I set up at place to eat at the breakfast bar and went back to tend to my pancakes. I made a big platter, betting on the fact that Zacky and Brian would be hungry from their hangovers when they came crawling back. I took a picture of the pancakes and sent it to Krystin.

Thinking of you!

Aw! I miss those. You have to make them for me when I come for a visit.

You got it!!

    The front door opened and I began to eat, stirring my coffee absentmindedly as I stared off into space.

    “Good morning, lovely.” Brian said, draping an arm around my shoulders. I jumped slightly and looked up at him. He didn’t look too hung over.

    “How’re you feeling?” I asked. He shrugged.

    “I’ve had worse, actually.” He said, picking up my coffee cup and taking a sip. “Why do you ruin it with so much sugar?” He sighed. I chuckled.

    “There’s more in the pot. And there’s extra pancakes.” I said. He glanced at me, his eyes trailing down my face slowly to his shirt.

    “It looks good on you.” He said, a smile tugging at his mouth.

    “Thanks. I’ll get it back to you.”

    “I can’t wear it after this.” He said, getting a mug and pouring himself some coffee.

    “What? Why? I’ll even wash it. It’s not like I have cooties.” He laughed.

    “Like I’m worried about that shit. I lived in a van for two years with Jimmy while we toured.” I laughed. “No. I can’t wear it knowing full well it looks much better on you than it does on me.” I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “Keep it.” I flashed him a smile, feeling it deemed a return comment.

    “It does look better on me, doesn’t it?” He laughed.

    “Cute. Very cute.” He said, poking my arm as he walked by and going upstairs with his cup. I realized I was staring after him and sighed. Why did he have to be so attractive? I finished my breakfast and started in on clean up. Brian came back down a few minutes after I finished the dishes. I glanced up and immediately looked back down.

    He was shirtless.

    Again.

    “So what’s in these pancakes that makes them so good?” He asked, leaning against the counter right next to me.

    “Oatmeal and peanut butter.” I said. He stared at me for so long that I finally had to look up. “What?”

    “That sounds horrible.” I pushed the pancake back into his mouth.