Our Song

Rose Garden

The big white door glared at Art every time he even dared to walk past. Not one chord led to a tune. It was dark and lonely for Art. He doesn't even get a wave anymore.

Art still wakes up in a cold sweat just wondering what would have happened if he said yes, that he did love Paul as Paul loved him. He would have to tell himself, this will all pass over soon, but it lingered in the air like a smell that would not pass. It was like it would always be this tense.

Anyway, the clouds were a deep gray. They sat on the sky not letting an ounce of light in. Every so often lighting would boom, and rain would trickle down.

Art sat curled up in a ball, a blanket around his shoulders trapping the heat in, and enjoying a book. This is how he spent his days when he wasn't out on a stroll or in the studio. He was so emersed in his book, he didn't hear Paul creep out of his room.

It had now been a few days since the two have spoken. Paul started feeling his chest get tight from guilt. His conscious was kicking in and telling him how bad he is. His past was making him feel so bad about it too, telling him, "You're a terrible person," And insults like that.

"Hey, Artie." Paul's voice came out hoarse from not uttering a word.

Art barely turned his head, but words flowed out like a river, "Are you here to complain to me some more and then go back into your room and not talk to me for an eternity?" Art's words came out as bitter as a lemon, but he didn't mean to sound that harsh.

"No, I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for the way I've been acting." Paul had trouble keeping eye contact.

"How could you do that, just shut me out like a dog?" More bitter words fell out of Art's mouth.

"I don't...I don't know, I guess I was expecting you to love me the way I love you, and I guess I just reacted wrong-"

"Like a baby." Art rudely interrupted Paul.

"Yes like a baby." Paul rolled his eyes.

Art's eye slipped off Paul and onto his book. Paul's face burned bright red, "Oh now you're going to ignore me!"

"Paybacks a bitch." Art uttered.

"Now who's acting like the baby?" Paul felt like he was a volcano about to explode.

Art kept his nose in his book, making an effort not to laugh at how annoyed Paul was getting.

"Please forgive me. I won't do something like that ever again." Paul pleaded.

All Paul wanted was for things to go back to normal, as usual as it will get. He longed to joke around with Artie. Paul would love to sing with him.

Art did a short laugh before getting serious and saying, "It was still pretty shitty that you did that."

"I know, that's what I'm trying to apologize for." Paul was getting weary.

Art let out a huge sigh, "Let me think about it."

Paul didn't think he could get any more annoyed, but he did, "Why can't you ever forgive me for anything I do wrong?"

Art finally met his eyes with Paul's, giving him his full attention, "I do forgive you for things."

"Really?" Paul stared at him unbelieving.

"Yes and you forgive me for the shit I do, but sometimes you do things that really piss me off, and it's harder to forgive you." Art said.

"Oh, like when I tried to make my own record with my dad and accidentally forgot to tell you? I was expecting you to be more understanding." Paul jabbed.

"Hey, that's something entirely different on its own, you promised me-"

"Some promises are broken Artie, and you have to accept that!" Paul started to whine.

"But I can't." Art's voice dwindled into a whisper.

"So you're going to disown me just for ignoring you for a couple of days?" Paul was getting fed up with his curly haired best friend.

"No, I'm just ticked off that you did it, end of story!" Art snapped.

Art's voice got louder than either of them thought he could. Art was frequently a soft-spoken guy, from his shyness. He startled Paul.

"And I forgive you, just don't do it again." Art lowered his voice again.

"Oh, now you forgive me." Paul crossed his arms.

"Paul, I really don't want to continue this fighting. Let's talk about something else." Art looked around trying to find something to start a conversation about.

"Well ok, I wrote some more songs." Paul held out crumbled pieces of paper with chicken scratch writing.

Art took the songs in his hand. He scanned the words, finding the meaning of the sentences. He heard the instruments that would be used in the song. They were written so well, Artie couldn't believe how far his partner has come.

"I also want to rewrite some of a simple desultory philippic." Paul watched Art's left hand dance across the paper, writing notes.

"You should do that, I also reworked side of a hill if you don't mind I called it canticle." Art smiled.

"Show me," Paul said.

"Ok."

Art brought over his paper. His writing was neat, except for the scribbled words that were replaced or taken out completely. Paul enjoyed it.

"I know what this would go good with it," Paul said.

"What?" Art was open to hearing Paul's opinion.

"Scarborough fair, that would blend well." Paul skimmed through his mess of papers.

"Great idea, do you have a time set when we are going to the studio?" Art asked.

"Umm, no I don't, but I'll find a time." Paul thought about a time to go.

As soon as the two quarreled with each other, it was over. Paul and Art would escalate to screaming at each other, then it is dead silent. You would have sworn they just dropped down dead. Then, they would be back to being best friends. They were best friends again.