Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

13. The Boy with the DAMN, DANIEL

He laughed and Delilah jumped off of him, high fiving Brody.

Music didn't feel like this in Hell.

She never felt that alive before.

And she loved it.

She glanced at Ryland, and they both exchanged simple smiles. She came over with another beer and handed it to him. "Nice boxers," Delilah said.

He glanced down at his flying pig boxers (every guy had a secret set of those) and laughed. "Thanks. My mom bought it for me."

"She's got good taste."

"I can drink to that." They clinked drinks and tipped their bottles back, appreciating the strong, burning feeling down their throats.

She spread her arms out. "So this is the brainstorm process, hm? Deck out the attic into a party for five?"

"You need to get the thinking juices going!" hooted Brody and did a little drum number to second that.

Paris waddled over in his matching socks with Ryland, the shower cap hiding the majority of his blond hair except for that curl hanging out. "We can only think in open concept rooms that have loads of fun toys to play around with."

Brody leaped onto a wheeley chair and let out a small "Weeeeeee" as he pushed himself over. "You need the workshop your imagination deserves." The pot on his head bobbed as he spoke.

Paris hit one of the cymbals with a wooden spoon. "Yeah, baby! The cleanup is fucking worth it too."

Ryland snorted. "What clean up?"

Delilah raised her brow.

HB leaned towards her, and answered, "They kinda shove all this shit in the bathroom attic on when they're done. No one uses it anyways so it's kind of their brainstorming closet. Then they take their imagination out and play around—as long as they're getting ideas or having fun."

"All our songs either come from our life experiences or epiphanies when we're fucking around," Brody said. "Song writing is like a big playground for us."

A timer went off and Paris threw his hands up. "Paint time!" He took off his guitar and grabbed a bucket of paint.

"After every three songs, we rehearse, and then have 'fun time'," Ryland explained.

Brody already dipped his hand in the paint and splattered it on the white paper covering the wall. Delilah walked over and saw some lyrics from some of their songs scrawled over the paper

"It's our brainstorm wall. We can't end the practice session until this whole paper is filled. It can be filled in any way—paint, words or doodles," Ryland further spoke.

"Want to see my drawing?" Paris asked.

Delilah nodded and he proudly guided her to the end of the hallway. "Ta da!"

"Is that a naked drawing of Ryland?"

Paris nodded and used the marker to finish drawing Ryland's very prominent V that rested right above the yahoo. "Isn't it magnificent?" he said in awe.

"I honestly expected his dick to be smaller," Delilah admitted.

The five of them played around for a while, getting lost in their little playground.

Later, Delilah reached her hand into the case of beer and came up empty. "Where's all the beer?"

She glanced up to see the guys already tossing the empty cans over their shoulders, burping loudly before laughing. "Mutts," she muttered and got up.