Rose

Chapter Four: Drawn Out String

That Friday, Rose sat on a bar stool, a full bottle of hard apple cider next to him. He was staring at the stage, empty except for a guitar resting next to a chair. Rose thought that, combined with the dim yellow, musty light filtering through the window, and the colorful stickers pasted to the stage, that it would be perfect practice for still-life and landscapes. He took out his sketchbook, dragging his pencil up and down, his tongue between his teeth in concentration.

As he did this, his eyes squinted trying to get details on the wood paneling, he felt a gentle tapping on his shoulders. He jumped, letting his sketchbook and pencil collapse to the floor, shooting himself out of the barstool. Behind him, Alec seemed startled, putting his hands up in defense.

"Whoa, whoa, didn't mean to scare you, Da Vinci."

Rose laughed anxiously, rubbing his shoulder. Alec looked much cleaner than the last time Rose had seen him. Instead of the torn, stained clothing from before, he wore a pair of dark blue jeans fit snugly over black cowboy boots. He also wore a plain gray shirt, though this one was clean and fit him well. Over it all, he wore a black leather jacket, not unlike the one that Rose wore on a daily basis, though Alec's seemed much newer than his. Instead of the scraggly, unkempt neck beard, he wore a five O'clock shadow staining his face. He had taken a shower and brushed his hair, gelling to the side to keep it in place. He also had a rhinestone glittering from his right ear.

Rose smiled. "Sorry, Mr. Cash. You look good."

Alec smiled like a small child, looking down at himself. "You think? I tried a little harder today. Did my hair and whatnot, even bought a little tube of makeup crap to cover up some acne." Alec cringed. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

Rose smiled and shook his head. "No, no. I think it should be more mainstream for men to take care of their appearance." Alec smiled. Before this, he had not noticed the thin makeup that Rose wore, or the jewelry coating him. He didn't notice the sense of style, the oil and combed hair, anything like that. Before, the only thing that Alec had noticed about Rose was, well, Rose himself. Alec decided he liked the smaller, individual details: Like the six or so earrings accessorizing each ear, or Rose's heart-shaped face, looking up at him smartly. He noticed the dimples that were exposed on the rare occasion that Rose truly smiled, along with the creases in the corner of his eyes. He noticed the glazed, manicured nails on his right hand while his left was chewed up, cuticles torn and bleeding. He noticed the carefully selected all-black outfits, as if he was trying to blend in with the night.

The more he noticed, the more Alec fell in love.

Rose sat back down, picking up his sketchbook and pencil from the filthy floor. Alec craned his neck to see what Rose was drawing, but Rose quickly flipped it shut, placing it carefully in his leather backpack. Alec leaned against the bar, trying too hard to be cool, smirking.

"So...uh...are you doing anything after the show?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm probably going to stop by the pharmacy and replenish my eyeliner."

"You wear makeup?" Alec asked, his head gently pointed up, his body resting upon the bar behind him and his arms outstretched. "I didn't even notice."

"I have to. Otherwise, I look like a skeleton covered in ice. I'm all pale."

"I don't think so."

"That's because you've never seen me without makeup."

Alec shrugged. "Or maybe it's because that's not actually what you look like."

"What songs are you playing tonight?" Rose asked, ignoring his compliment and the flirting. Alec stood up straighter, clearing his throat.

"I don't know. You'll see, though."