The Setup » [lashton] √

0.3

[Monday Morning]

Ashton

Hey, Cal said you were interested in painting; I'm thinking about taking some classes, but I kind of want someone to come with me; it's only $10 a class.

Yeah sounds cool

Awesome first class is tonight! It's in a studio on Oxford street.

______________

[Monday Evening]

So that was how Luke had ended up standing outside a studio on Surry Hills, waiting for Ashton to arrive. He wasn't all that interested in paying to go to a class that he hadn't wanted to go to in the first place; the only reason he'd said yes was because Calum had obviously lied. So it was either say Calum was a liar, lie about going somewhere else or go. Not to mention the fact that he'd told Luke the story behind the awkward meeting after the woman had left. 

It was all about guilt, he supposed, he felt bad that he felt bad, pity wasn't something he liked to do, it wasn't helpful to anyone but the person doing the pitying. Now he was confused about whether he liked Ashton even just the tiniest bit or if this was all just him trying to do the 'right' thing. 

The point was he wished they'd never run into the girl, Emma. 

She's been a friend of Calum's first, and that's how Calum and Ashton had met. He said he didn't realise, but Calum had stopped speaking to her, and he confided in Luke that he was actually happy they weren't speaking anymore. 

Anyway, the girl, Emma, was his ex, ex-best friend? Ex-friend with benefits? Ex-girlfriend? No, no and no; Ex-fiance. They'd been together for two years and had broken up several months ago. The thing was, Ashton still didn't know why they'd broken up. Apparently, she'd just woken one day and called it all off; he'd had to go and rebuild his life. She's taken the apartment (he couldn't afford it on his own) and most of their friends, and that was it. They'd spoken less than half a dozen times since then, and she'd never told him; no matter how many times he asked what the cause had been, she'd refused to say anything specific. Speaking in vague platitudes, about how when you felt this or thought that you should do this or not do that. 

Luke wasn't sure if he entirely bought the story; he'd had many assholes (Michael) tell him one story, and their partner tells him something entirely different. He guessed it had to be somewhat true based on the tension between Emma and Ashton, but to what extent? Who could say?

He'd been tempted to message Calum and ask him if he knew the whole story; he must have known something if he'd stopped spending time with her. 

He was leant up against the wall letting all this swirl and tumble around his mind when Ashton appeared cheerily beside him, "Hey! I'm so glad you came; I was kind of nervous, if I'm honest," he said quickly. 

"It'll be fun, and if not, we can ditch and go for a drink instead," Luke chuckled, trying his best attempt at casual. 

The comment didn't seem to do much to calm Ashton's nerves; he just nodded and followed as Luke led the way up the narrow staircase. Ashton took the lead when they got to the front desk, and the teacher explained they didn't have much to worry about; all they were doing today was feeling out everyone's skill level and understanding. 

This seemed to calm Ashton a but, but he still led Luke to a table at the back of the room, well away from the door and the teacher. They chatted somewhat mindlessly as they waited for the rest of the seats to fill. The older man's eyes continued to flick around the room nervously, searching the room and reflexively darting to the door every time a new person entered. It made the conversation hard to keep up and lacking in substance. 

When the class did start, it went much how their teacher had told them it would; the boys were trying to paint bubbles. Apparently, it was to see how firm their grasp of shading and highlighting was. Luke was getting quite frustrated; no matter what he seemed to do, the bubble always looked somewhat oblong; how was it he couldn't even paint a circle? He sighed, letting his eyes close as he dropped his brush into the water and began to rub the bridge of his nose.

It was then he realised he'd been so focused on the oblong bubble that he's forgotten about Ashton; he flicked his eyes open and over to his canvas. Hopefully, he was having a better time than Luke; he was the reason they were here after all. Unfortunately, he had a deep frown on his face as he tilted his head, adding some of the darker colours he'd mixed to the edge of the bubble. 

"I'm both relieved and disappointed that you're not way better at this than me," Luke said, chuckling as Ashton began to let his brush cross the circle, colouring it in in defeat. 

His furrowed brow lifted, and he turned to grin at Luke, "It's fun though, very therapeutic," he looked past the other to his own board, "why does your bubble look like a booger?"

Luke turned to look at his own artwork tilting his head to the side, "it's one of those booger bubbles that little kids get when they cry and then try to breath out their nose," what started out as a light chuckle in Ashton's chest quickly dissolved into a fit of laughter, disproportionate to the joke. Every time Ashton seemed like he was about to stop, he'd take another look at the boog- bubble and starting laughing again. Luke took another look at his painting and couldn't help but join in; it was awful and boogery and gross. 

"Okay, okay, it's an abstract representation of the warped minds of children brought about by the time we live in," Luke said seriously. 

Ashton stopped laughing and mirrored Luke's serious expression; the older man was holding back a smile as he raised a doubtful eyebrow at Luke. When Luke didn't back down, Ashton's lips slowly started to disappear, an attempt at stopping the smile. 

Luke thought it couldn't hurt to keep going a little longer, "yeah, I'm a learned bitch; what of it?"

This time Ashton's cheeks coloured and fought another laugh before turning dutifully back to his painting. Luke couldn't figure out what had elicited the quick change in Ashton until he turned to face his own painting and realised that Dave (the teacher) was standing right beside him, a grin on his face. 

"Good to know you're bringing your world experience to your painting," he said, laughing, before shaking his head and walking away. 

Luke rounded on Ashton immediately, "you could have warned me!" He exclaimed.

"Was funnier to let you find out on your own," Ashton told him, laughing to himself and patting Luke's shoulder firmly. Luke had thought it was a weird gesture when he first did it, but when the other boy pulled his hand back a grin on his face, he saw the leftover grey paint on his hand. He let out a groan as his eyes moved from the hand to his shoulder, and he saw the matching handprint on his shoulder. 

"That's such a dick move; you're lucky I wore an old shirt," he glared playfully at Ashton, who just chuckled and shrugged innocently before realising he couldn't touch anything with the wet hand and groaned. "I believe that is what they call karma," Luke told him knowingly.