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passionbound ([info]passionbound) wrote in [info]paxletalelogs,
@ 2010-06-15 16:31:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:baldr, fenrir

Who: Simon and Billy K.
What: Traveling art show.
Where: Apartment 103
When: This evening, after 6pm
Warnings: None to speak of.

Shortly after talking with the resident of 103 (whom he realised he didn't even get a name for), Simon went back to his bedroom to pull out a few of the pieces he had with him. Pulling off the heavy drop cloth he had used to keep them covered, he went through them quietly, setting aside a few that he thought might interest the other.

It took some time, and he realised he had more here than he had originally thought. But after a bit, he had a pile of a dozen or so pieces that might interest the guy. Mostly landscapes, images of the ocean, nothing he would call his very best but nothing he was ashamed to show. It was only after he had the canvases picked out that Simon realised how entirely unwieldy it would be to carry them down even a flight of stairs. Lips pursed, trying to come up with a solution, deciding that this was one of those times he wished he had a digital camera.

Finally, he just resigned himself to several trips downstairs, hoping that there weren't any thieves in the building that would swipe things while he made another trip, but with some consideration, he decided that if they did steal, at least they had good taste, so he wouldn't fault them. It took several trips, a couple of the canvases just large enough to be awkward to carry, so it wasn't until several minutes after six that he finally knocked on the door of 103.


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[info]susceptible
2010-06-15 09:58 pm UTC (link)
The construction guys had been hired by a friend, and they were pretty much on autopilot. Billy didn't know shit about construction and he was good enough not to interfere in what they were doing, and he hadn't done a lot of moving (nor did he have a lot of stuff, to be straight about it) so they hadn't needed to move a lot to work on the carpet and the bathroom. Bare concrete and carpet glue dominated the majority of the apartment, but the room was starting to come together at one end in beautiful rose hardwood. Another couple of them had torn up the linoleum in the kitchen and bathroom and replaced it with sturdier stuff that Billy didn't know the name of; it was a better color but not as slippery as tile. Most of the remodeling was about mobility, smoothing out a small step to get into the bedroom so he didn't have to lift his knee, replacing the floor so he could wheel on it if he was having a hell day--and when they got to the counters, they'd make them stronger and an inch or so lower.

Billy was actually grateful for the relative silence, but he was adverse to the interruption of the knock on the door. "Coming," he shouted at it. The wheelchair wasn't viable at the present, not with all the uneven surfaces, but Billy had spent most of the day either in a chair or in bed. Easing his weight on the cane he took a breath and carefully made his way to the door. It took him about three times as long as a mobile person.

Stopping short, he just pulled the knob and let it swing past him--it saved time moving forward and moving back. He gave the guy on the other side a welcoming smile and hid his discomfort with the situation. Billy hadn't spent a lot of time around non-medical strangers since the accident, and he was braced for a lot of strange looks and really awkward questions. Healing was more than getting across a room, though. "Hey." He looked past Simon at the canvases and blinked. "Wow, you brought a lot. Come on in." The apartment still smelled of construction dust.

Other than the cane and a very obvious limited range of motion in his left leg and arm, there wasn't anything visibly wrong with Billy. He still had a handsome face that some pain lines around his eyes didn't much detract from, and the button up shirt looked normal enough even if it didn't quite go with the sweats. Billy didn't bother trying to get jeans on unless he went outside. They were hell.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-15 10:14 pm UTC (link)
The wait between his knock and the door opening didn't seem to bother him, instead occupying himself with looking up and down the hallway, not really moving to look, just his eyes sweeping back and forth. When the door opened, Simon's attention was right where it belonged, his head canted to the side, expression neutral. "I wasn't entirely sure what your taste would be so... I brought a few."

No special attention was called to the presence of the cane, instead taking the invitation and grabbing up several of the canvases and hauling them inside with him, setting them against a wall before returning with the last handful. His nose wrinkled at the smell of the dust that hung in the air, and Simon made a swipe at his nose as though to clear his sinuses. "Place is looking good in here. I like the choice of the rose hardwood. Of course, I've always had a penchant for darker tones like that."

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-15 11:27 pm UTC (link)
There was one armchair in the room, strapped with extra cushions and erect with what looked like a removable arm to get from the chair to a wheelchair--that sat behind the door. The former was sitting near the window where the workers had replaced it before they left, knowing it was the only seat besides the bed in the whole place. The table had been pushed into the kitchen temporarily, and there were a couple chairs there, but they were the folding kind, and clearly not ones he could sit in for any length of time. Not if he wanted to get up again.

Billy got out of the way the best he was able, and watched the artist move canvases in from the door to the side of the living room. "Me too," he agreed, about the wood, smiling. The cane was made of the same dark stained wood, and it was almost black where it curved to properly fit the hand and support the arm. "I'm going to have to get one now that you've gone to all this trouble," he commented, grinning still and moving closer to the paintings' final destination. He decided to stay on his feet as long as he was able, and movement was very much as far as he could go with the good leg and then a heavy limp and a lot of pain later, he got a step ahead. Every day was the goddamn Olympics, and he got a gold.

"Had to go with the ground floor, so I told 'em I would rip the place up and put it back together. Whoever replied didn't seem to care much." Billy spoke as he looked down, musing about the unknown owner of the building for a whole second before dismissing it and moving on.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-15 11:48 pm UTC (link)
Simon glanced over his shoulder towards Billy, giving him a slight smile before turning his attention back to the canvases. "Don't feel obligated unless you like one," he said evenly, spacing them out as best he could so Billy could get a look at them.

Once they were settled to his satisfaction, Simon straightened, dusting his hands off on the knees of a well-worn pair of jeans. "Yeah, I've gotten the feeling that the owners of this place don't mind what we do. Never knew you could sign on for a place without ever meeting anyone in person." Shoulders rolled in a shrug, and he inclined his head towards Billy.

It was strange to some intrinsic part of his mind to see someone who handled such an accident so well. If it had happened as long ago as he had said, then it couldn't have been a pretty thing to still be recovering. Of course, he had said he was recovering quickly, not that Simon had anything to base that on. But no questions were raised as he stepped back to give Billy room to look.

"See anything that catches your eye?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest, one hand hooked at the back of his neck. "I know they're not framed or anything, but I can hook you up with something if you'd like. Or if you don't see anything, I can paint something you might like better. I'm... yeah. Pretty open." He abruptly closed his mouth, lips pressed together in a thin line. Too much talking.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-16 12:00 am UTC (link)
The acquisition of balance was a bitch with a spinal cord injury, and anyone with whiplash will tell you everything seems fine until you go a bit too far. Billy was cautious, he wasn't in a hurry, and he was serious about staying on his feet. He wasn't suspicious about Simon's presence, and he wasn't trying to catch him staring or doing something wrong. Generous with his space as much as anything else, Billy turned his attention to the paintings even before Simon was fully out of the way.

He'd always liked the ocean. He wasn't any good at surfing, never found any interest running up and down it, but he liked the smell and he liked the feel of sand in his toes. It was one of the best feelings out there, especially if you didn't have any feeling at all in your feet for three months. Billy definitely liked the beach.

So he was attracted to those that showed a lot of it, and not the seascapes that were preoccupied with the water and the way it pressed onto the land. He liked the beach, and he liked light. After some thought he pointed at a long canvas of a cove set in daylight. You could see the beach umbrellas in the distance, even if there was no people there. "That one. I like that one. That around here?" He didn't recognize it, but that wasn't important. There were a lot of oceans and beaches that Billy hadn't seen.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-16 12:13 am UTC (link)
Having someone look at the pieces he had painted left Simon feeling a little self-conscious. Criticism never bothered him, but he worried if he put too much of himself into the paintings. So Simon stayed quiet as Billy perused the pieces he had brought, chewing on his bottom lip in the silence that stretched out between them.

When he finally spoke, Simon gave him a quick nod and stepped forward to pull the long canvas forward, away from the rest. "It's from near where I grew up," he answered after a moment. "North Carolina. Place I used to visit with my family." Fingers ran along the top of the canvas as he looked down to the painting, remembering how he had felt when it was painted, as though it was done only the day before. "It's a good choice. I've always liked this one."

He looked up towards Billy then, lips set in a crooked smile. "Do you want it framed? I could have it back to you tomorrow if you wanted."

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-16 03:39 am UTC (link)
Billy stared at it a little while longer. "Yes," he said, certainly. "I want that one." Then blinking, he realized that Simon had asked him a question. "Oh... no. I don't want it framed. I like seeing the way the paint goes over the edge like that." Billy shuffled forward a little, wincing in discomfort but leaning slightly over when he got there anyway. "And this one kind of goes with it." It was another coastal scene, this one with rocks and sea spray. It was far more barren than the first, but the colors aligned from the darker spectrum of gray to the lighter daylight of the first, longer scene. "That one too," he said, solidly. He didn't ask the price.

"After they get done with the floors maybe you can come put them up where you think they fit," he continued, stepping away from the paintings and moving himself toward the kitchen. His knee seemed to be mostly frozen in place and he didn't move with any speed. "Can I get you a really boring non-alcoholic drink? That's all I've got. I didn't catch your name."

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-16 03:55 am UTC (link)
Simon couldn't help the burst of surprise he felt at Billy choosing not one, but two of his paintings, and with such certainty. He normally left the selling of his pieces to the few galleries he had worked with, or a vendor at an art fair. The way some people looked at art bothered him, and he didn't need to feel their eyes picking at his painting, so to have someone make a decision like that in front of him... well. It was warming.

"Of course, of course," he said, setting the two canvases aside so he wouldn't mistakenly take them back to his own place. "Just let me know when it'd be a good time. I'll leave them here with you and..." Simon trailed off, raking a hand back through his hair, blinking when he was offered a drink. "And sure. Anything's good. And it's Simon. I don't think I caught yours, either." He trailed after him, shoving his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched up towards his ears. In a way, he wondered if he ought to be rushing forward to try and help him when he was clearly dealing with some discomfort, but he also didn't want to step on the man's pride. Simon wasn't sure how he'd take a near-stranger doing that, so he kept to himself, keeping a small distance away.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-16 05:45 am UTC (link)
Billy didn't pick at anything but his own music, and with that and that alone he was unforgiving and ruthless. Art was different. Especially pictures. He either liked the whole, or he did not. He either felt it, or he did not. Even if he had hated everything, he probably would have bought one to make it worth the guy's trouble--and maybe to make a friend. Then he would have stuck it somewhere out of the way. Fortunately he really liked Simon's stuff, and he was serious about wanting him to hang it.

"I've got this limeade that's almost like the real thing," Billy said, shuffling into the kitchen and pulling at the fridge until it gave way. He almost dropped the cane but he recovered in time. "Sticks," he observed, making a mental note to do something about it. "Still adapting," he said, smiling at Simon. "I'm..." he paused. "Harrison," he said, slowly. "But my friends call me Billy." He was trying to avoid the attention of the press, and he really didn't want them camping on his doorstep, but maybe they would have better things to write about until he got back in the business.

"Would you mind grabbing a couple glasses from that cupboard over there?" He put the oversized plastic bottle on the counter, then he closed the fridge.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-16 06:10 pm UTC (link)
Luckily for Billy, Simon's taste in music ran the gamut, leaning mostly towards whatever indie group he had discovered while traveling, and barring that, a bit of modern classical, so there was little to no chance of Simon recognizing him. "Mind if I call you Billy, then?" he asked, half of a smile pulling at his lips as he moved over to the cupboard that had been indicated, pulling two glasses from the shelf and placing them near where Billy had rested the bottle.

Simon leaned back against the counter, elbows balanced behind him. "I don't mean to pry or something, but I get the feeling that you're... I don't know. Just waiting for something to happen. I don't know if that's just how you are, but I'm not gonna bite you or anything. Just in case you were worried about that."

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-17 12:34 am UTC (link)
"Not a bit," he replied to the inquiry about his name, with a grin that said he much preferred the nickname. "Got it when I was a kid, seemed cool at the time, then it stuck." Billy the Kid, it was. They'd been watching a lot of gunslinging documentaries on the history channel, and 'Harrison' was just something his parents called him from then on.

Billy rolled his weight back on his good leg to pour and then put everything down to offer the full glass out at Simon so he didn't have to wait while Billy shuffled back, returned the bottle to the fridge, and then shuffled forward again. "I'm waiting to figure out what normal is," he admitted, with a rueful smile. "That's not on you, man. But thanks."

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-17 02:51 am UTC (link)
He took the glass with a nod of thanks, watching as Billy put things away, taking a sip of the cold drink as he waited. "Normal, huh? You might be waiting for a long time given how the world tends to go." Shoulders shrugged up for a moment and he took another drink, lifting the glass up afterwards to take a look at it.

"This is some good stuff. Did you make it yourself or something?" Simon asked, looking back over towards Billy. It was an easy moment. Uncomplicated, a little quiet, just the sort that he really preferred. Crowds and Simon got along like nails on a chalkboard. It could work, but the result wasn't very happy for anyone. One on one, that's what he preferred.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-17 05:52 am UTC (link)
"My mom made it. She's trying to be supportive about the whole leaving the nest... again." A flash of teeth in more of Billy's usual slapdash humor. He just tossed grins and smiles out left and right, at the smallest provocation. Taking his own glass after everything was put away, he gratefully propped himself up against the counter to sip.

"Anyway, as for normal... I don't know. Guess I gotta figure out my normal." His eyes moved around the apartment, appreciative and uncertain simultaneously. "Stuff like how I'm going to get the fridge open more than once a day without ending up on my ass." He contemplated it.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-17 06:26 pm UTC (link)
He made an amused sound at the origin of the limeade, Simon was quiet for a bit longer as he took another sip, quite enjoying the tartness of the beverage. But the mention of the other guy's mother made him think of his own, and for a second, he had a flash of guilt at leaving them all like he had. But just as quickly as it had come, he pushed it away to the far recesses of his mind.

"I bet it's gonna take some time, but, if there's anything you need help with, let me know. I'm not working anywhere at the moment, so I've got free time on my hands when I'm not painting." Shoulders shrugged as though to say he didn't mind either way if Billy got a hold of him for anything. "Though I might get cranky if there are phone calls at 3am to get a fridge door unstuck." He cracked a grin then, hiding it moments later with a sip of limeade.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-17 07:23 pm UTC (link)
Billy, a naturally surface person, didn't look too deep for the source of that guilty look. If Simon wanted to tell him, he would. If he didn't want to tell him, then Billy would mind his own business unless it came up in some way that was more urgent.

"Hey, thanks for the offer," he said, grateful but careful how much he showed it. He believed Simon's offer to be earnest, but he also knew that if he kept calling people to do shit for him and haul things back and forth, he wouldn't have friends for very long. "Actually..." he debated the request, wondering how far to push it before continuing. "The lady in 207 set me up with some plants." Billy had the impression of an older lady with a lot of potted flowers in the window and a number of cats. "There's a couple I can't lift out of the box. You think I can bother you...? I know you just got all your paintings here, though, you're probably wiped." A smile. He was giving Simon an out in case he wanted to avoid the request.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-17 10:39 pm UTC (link)
"Plants?" Simon arched a brow at that, and after another sip of limeade, he sat his glass down and gave a nod. "It's no sweat. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it." His smile was crooked, and there was no complaint registering on his face. "Just point me in the direction of the box and let me know where you want 'em at and it's as good as done." He straightened up from his lean against the counter, hooking thumbs in the pockets of his jeans.

While Simon would never describe himself as 'laid back', he was, for the most part, easy to get along with, so long as the situation didn't come down to issues of trust and confidence. Without those buttons pushed, he could be almost... social. At least in a one-on-one situation.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 12:49 am UTC (link)
Billy's relief was obvious. "I stuck it in the bedroom." He put the cup aside and pushed off from the counter, setting off in his awkward, dragging shuffle toward the short hall. "She dropped them off in this box. Those cacti right there came from her too." He nodded behind Simon at the windowsill, where the little planters now stood. "Got the small ones out okay, but apparently lifting things up isn't possible. I can go forward and back and side to side, but fucking up..." Billy almost shook his head, but he was busy trying to keep his balance.

"Here." The three remaining plants were the zebra, the amaryllis, and the dwarf umbrella. The ones with the larger pots. It was easy to see how Billy couldn't take them by one hand and lift straight up; he'd have to use his back and his knees. "I got no idea where to put 'em. Maybe one by the door. I trust your artistic intuition." Grin.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-18 01:19 am UTC (link)
Simon followed behind Billy, keeping a fair distance back from him to allow him the room he needed to move at the pace that was comfortable to him. He glanced over towards the cacti, and couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. "I've never understood plants that could hurt you. The rest of the world is painful as it is without your house plants adding to it." He laughed quietly, shaking his head in amusement before his attention was drawn to the box and the three remaining pots.

Crouching down next to it, he hefted the zebra plant up in his arms, holding it carefully against his chest. "Think you'd like this one next to the door? Bet it does all right not near a window, not that I know a thing about plants." There was his own crooked smile, already heading towards the door, but slow enough that Billy could stop him if he totally disagreed.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 01:38 am UTC (link)
"Cacti don't live on much," Billy said, getting out of the way so Simon could re-enter the living room with the zebra plant. He hadn't been on his feet for more than fifteen minutes but the strain was already starting to show in the way he held his mouth and the white-knuckled grip on the cane. "I think they're kinda gutsy."

"Looks good by the door. Makes the place look like it's lived in." Then, on the same breath, he said, "I think I'm gonna sit down, if it's cool." He wasn't waiting for an answer before he headed toward the only chair in the place that looked capable of bearing him, the armchair with the cushions. "Lady left some directions. If I gotta water the plants I gotta get up to do it. It's good exercise. Sometimes I need a reason to get up." He realized a second after he said it that maybe it was a bit too much for the first meeting, and winced.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-18 01:54 am UTC (link)
"Or they're just non-demanding and prickly when disturbed." Simon laughed again, easing through the living room to deposit the zebra plant next to the door. He was just settling it down when he heard Billy say he was going to sit, turning to look back over his shoulder towards the other man, a certain amount of worry evident in his expression. He didn't rush over though, fiddling with the plant for a moment before rising back to his full height, hands sliding into his pockets.

"Hey. You doing okay? I mean. Honestly?" Simon asked, moving towards him slowly, his brows knit down just a bit in concern. The words were slightly worrisome, just enough to garner his attention, but again, he didn't know the man well enough to know if he should be worried. So he left the question open, prepared to handle the response, whatever it was.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 02:05 am UTC (link)
Sitting down was an experience. Not having the full use of back, spine, knee or even hip meant if he sat he couldn't adjust, so he damn well better do it right the first time. He turned, caught his weight so that the back of his knees were flush with the chair, and folded into it as slowly as possible. Another wince. "Yeah, it's cool. I just hurt, it's not new." It was meant to be reassuring, but since he had to catch his breath to say it, not so much. Billy glanced at the clock. He had a couple hours yet before he could take something for the pain, and another anti-inflammatory. The nurse that came by in the evening would bring it.

Billy leaned the cane carefully against the arm of the chair so he could retrieve it again. The pressure on his arm and shoulder eased, at least. He made an effort to return to the previous conversation. "Yeah, you were right, looks good there. Guess I can trust you to just show up and stick everything where you think it looks good. Going into interior design?"

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-18 02:14 am UTC (link)
He didn't say anything as Billy settled into the chair, lips slightly pursed. He could tell it wasn't easy, and Simon wasn't entirely sure how Billy seemed to cope so well with it, or maybe not as well as he let on at times given the one comment that still hung around in his memory. But when Billy didn't linger on that topic, Simon moved on as well, leaving Billy to sit and relax as he went back to retrieve one of the remaining two plants, looking about the room for a moment before finding a home for the amaryllis near one of the windows. Flowers needed light, right?

But at Billy's comment, he had to grin, looking over at him with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not sure if I'm actually doing anything that looks good here, but if you like it, thumbs up to me. But I think I'll stick with painting. Less dealing with people and more inhaling paint fumes. One of those seems less harmful than the other." He grinned then, wandering back to the kitchen and retrieving both of their glasses, offering Billy back his own before he sat on the floor nearby taking a long sip of the drink.

"What did you do? Before the accident? Or are you still doing it? It's hard to tell what anyone around here does."

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 02:20 am UTC (link)
He took the drink gratefully. Billy was what some doctors called "fully recovered" after the initial paralysis, but that just meant he regained all sensation and mobility. It didn't mean that his dexterity magically returned, or that his control was as fine as it had been before the accident. He got a good grip on the cup before pulling it into his possession.

He laughed readily at Simon's observation about paint fumes, settling the cold, sweating cup onto his knee and smiling even as the laugh died because he still felt it there moments later. Sometimes you just had to enjoy the small stuff. "I'm in this band," Billy said, without a hint of jest or embarrassment. "We're all from around here, so this place is perfect. Home ground."

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-18 02:36 am UTC (link)
"California boy at heart?" Simon commented, wondering for an idle moment if he too classified as one of those. He had been born in Anaheim, though from the little bit of information he had been able to gather, his time here was only a few days before he was whisked off to be raised by another family. "It's a nice area. Can't say I'm quite used to it, so it's good to meet someone who is." He gave a grin, stretching out on the floor, legs spread out in front of him, hands braced back behind him on the floor.

"You plan on going back with them once you're up to it?" he asked, assuming that things were on hold, at least for the moment.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 02:46 am UTC (link)
Billy just smiled. He was from here and always had been and always would be. He didn't think about it that way, but then, he'd always had roots, even when he was off touring. He missed touring.

"If they wait around that long," he said, entirely truthful. He wasn't feeling sorry for himself, he was just saying it because it worried him, and he chewed on it a lot when he didn't have much else to think about. "If, you know. I can." Something else that worried him. He frowned for the first time in the entire conversation. Music was something that Billy held very dear, and nothing bothered him more than not having it at his fingertips.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-18 02:54 am UTC (link)
"If it's something you really want to do," Simon started, words quiet, more musing than anything really concrete. "Then you'll find a way to do it." He paused, considering his words carefully since he really had no idea how he would react in a similar situation. It'd be like if something happened to his hands. What would he do if he couldn't paint? Maybe pay more attention to the main reason he had come to California in the first place. His lips twitched in a frown which was visible for only a moment before he tucked it back where it couldn't be seen.

"What did you do? Sing? Drums? Guitar? Uhm... tambourine?" he asked, trying to insert a bit of levity into the situation. The frown seemed out of place on Billy's face, and while he could respect it's origin, he hardly wanted to prolong it.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 04:08 am UTC (link)
"Started out in percussion," Billy said, more than willing to talk about music any time, any place, with anyone, regardless of how much pain it caused him. "But turns out there are a lot of guys better than me, so I ended up singing." He smiled. "I can--well, used to--play some of everything, and it helps when you're putting music together. Probably go back to piano a little heavier, don't have the dexterity for strings anymore." He thought about it. A piano had the basic melodic layers for everything, even percussion if you can pedal and play it right. He could try banging some more on a piano and see what Merc made of it. There was a piano at his parents' house, though it wasn't the one he learned on when he was a kid. He didn't need a real big one, just something to experiment with. "Huh. Maybe when the floor is done." Casting his eyes around. "Maybe stick it over there."

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-18 11:15 am UTC (link)
He watched him thinking, the way he rolled the idea around in his head, and Simon couldn't help but smile just a bit. "Sounds like a good plan to me," he commented. "Getting a piano, that is. Not that I know shit about playing one but..." There was a laugh, and he shifted, sitting back up as he folded his legs between him, taking another long sip of the limeade.

"See? You're gonna get back to it one way or another. It's pretty easy to see just how much y'like it. I think that's pretty cool."

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 05:09 pm UTC (link)
"Yeah, my mom made me take lessons since I was a kid. I hated it right up until it got me girls in high school." He picked up the cane and hooked a moving box from a corner, pulling it over with more arm than back and then hauling his bad leg up onto it. "Fuck," he swore at it, more because it made him feel better to swear at the pain. Settling back again, he picked up the thread where he left off. "And then, you know, it's pretty handy when you're trying to write something. My buddy just messes around on the guitar, but we can't all do that." More grinning of the self-conscious kind. "At least I never lost my voice. I know this one guy I met in physio and he can't even breathe on his own." Billy shook his head. "Shit, I can't even imagine. That guy had class. Anyway, you're right, even with no stage there's always something." Slurp from the limeade.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-18 06:33 pm UTC (link)
Simon nodded his head as Billy aired his thoughts, finding himself agreeing with everything that was said, even with as little experience he had concerning the topics at hand. "When you feel up to it," he said, eyes sweeping the ceiling as though looking for something up there. "I'd love to hear you play. I got to know music pretty well while I was traveling. Lets you ignore the assholes on the Greyhounds when you can't hear a lick of what they're saying." Simon grinned then, remembering the days on the road. He missed it, more than he'd probably ever say. Maybe it was the fact that he was searching, maybe it was the fact that everything changed every day on the road... but it was intoxicating. Settling felt strange. Stagnant. And even though he still had his mission, he couldn't help the slight stir-crazy feeling that pulled at him.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-18 06:54 pm UTC (link)
The only thing Billy liked more than his music was having an audience for it, but he was an exacting and passionate musician and that tended to get in the way of the final product; he wouldn't settle for 'good enough' when it came to music, and it drove some people absolutely crazy. In fact Merc had threatened to murder him more than once. He was almost sure it had been a joke each time, though.

He had tried to do some writing in his head, and while that worked for bits of lyric here and there, it didn't do anything for rhythm and without Merc he wasn't all that great at melody. It was incredibly frustrating to hear a tempo in your head and not be able to get your limbs to create the sound at the right pace.

"Travel?" Billy asked, interested to know where the other man had been and where he was going.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-19 05:41 pm UTC (link)
Simon blinked when the conversation was directed back to him, shifting slightly where he sat as though he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to say. "Been on the road for a little over a year now. First time I've settled down since I left home. Mostly just been camping out or stayin' in motels when I had the money to do so." He shrugged just a bit, draining the last of his limeade and setting the glass aside where it wouldn't get knocked over.

"Been looking for someone. A couple someones, actually. Can't say I've been having much luck but..." Another shrug. "It'll get figured out sometime."

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-19 08:16 pm UTC (link)
"Old girlfriend?" Billy asked curiously. The road-trip was a cool idea, maybe more so if you didn't know where you were going, but somehow with his, Billy always ended up heading back to California, to the cool breezes and warm beaches and stupid tourists. Eventually he just figured that California was home, and he'd stop trying to find a different one.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-19 08:19 pm UTC (link)
Simon had to laugh at that, giving a shake of his head in the negative. "No, not one of those. My... sister, actually. Twin sister." He paused, wondering how much information was too much, but really, Billy had done anything to make him suspicious of simply telling the truth.

"I found out I was adopted a couple years ago, and I headed out about a year ago to see about finding my family." Shoulders shrugged, and he brought a hand to his mouth, chewing on his thumbnail. "Kind of stupid, isn't it? Probably best to leave well enough alone, but... Here I am."

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-19 08:28 pm UTC (link)
"That's crazy!" Billy enthused, always one for a mystery and a long-lost anything. A road-trip for a long lost sister. Cool. "It's not stupid at all. I'd probably do the same thing, you know, find out where you came from, and all." Billy shifted in the chair to try to find a spot that wasn't uncomfortable, but his thoughts were far away. "So how'd your family take it? Your adopted one? They just told you last year?" Sometimes Billy forgot that not everyone wanted to pour out their life story to him.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-20 12:56 am UTC (link)
"They weren't... the happiest with it," Simon said a moment later, his gaze fixed on a wall across the room, shoulders hunched towards his ears somewhat. "I don't think they ever planned on telling me, really. And it probably woulda been better if they hadn't, because I didn't exactly take it the best way I could have." He paused, his brows lifting on his forehead before he let out a long sigh.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-20 02:32 am UTC (link)
"Well, they should have told you," Billy said, dead certain, nodding a little bit. He turned his head and looked out the window. The sun was going down, and the California sky flared orange and purple and smoldering white-hot yellow near the horizon, where the sun was ducking down behind the square buildings. "Getting late." He turned his head back to Simon. "Someone comes by to make sure I'm not dead around seven." He smiled a little bit. He didn't really want Simon to be there when the nurse showed up with meds and a series of pokes and prods to make sure he wasn't regressing or showing signs of illness.

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-20 02:41 am UTC (link)
While he agreed with Billy, he didn't say anything in response, just giving a nod of his head. When Billy spoke again, Simon understood what was being asked, and without comment, he rose up to his feet, grabbing up his glass once he was up. "Then I'll make my way back upstairs. You want me to take your glass back to the kitchen before I leave?" he asked, his own glass in hand with every intention of picking up after himself before he left.

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-20 02:48 am UTC (link)
"Uh..." Billy thought about keeping it and putting it back himself, but really, that would just be stubborn pride. He was trying to be strong and independent, but at a certain point things were unnecessary strain, and he was trying to walk that line. Raising his eyes from the cheap glass, he put a flat smile on (best he could manage) and offered it up. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry I can't walk you out." Clearing his throat. "Thanks for coming by?"

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-20 02:51 am UTC (link)
He took the glass from him, taking both to the kitchen and even rinsing them out before returning to the living room, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. "No need to apologise. And... it was good to come by. I don't really... talk to many people." He shifted his weight from foot to foot before giving him a nod and turning to gather up the canvases that he would be taking back with him, stacking them neatly and moving towards the door awkwardly. It was there that he paused, just before opening it.

"Hope we can do it again? And like I said. You need a hand with something. Just... let me know. Okay?"

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[info]susceptible
2010-06-20 02:58 am UTC (link)
It cheered Billy immensely that Simon didn't talk to many people. It made him feel valuable, and not much made Billy feel valuable these days. He liked that it wasn't about the paintings he'd bought, either. Simon hadn't even asked how much he would pay or when. He just left them there and he was getting ready to walk out. Billy thought that was classy.

"Sure, and if you need one--" Billy raised his arms and smiled. "I got two."

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[info]passionbound
2010-06-20 03:02 am UTC (link)
The value of his paintings was a touchy subject for Simon; he never knew how much to price anything out. And so, usually, if someone asked what something went for, he'd just tell them to give him whatever they thought was worth it. Sometimes it was just a couple of tens, and sometimes it was more, like that old lady who bought a painting of a field he had done for several grand. Simon didn't ask questions, didn't even count the money when it was given to him. He would just nod his head, give a smile, and thank the person in question. It was still uncomfortable.

So he didn't even bring it up to Billy, preferring to dance around that awkward topic in favour of more comfortable ones. "I'll keep that in mind," he said with a crooked smile, and propping the canvases up against his foot, he gave Billy a salute with one hand. "Keep yourself well, Billy," and then he was pulling the door open and making his way out into the hall with his paintings. He paused briefly to duck his head back in for a final wave before pulling the door shut behind him, surrounded by the silence of the hallway.

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