Under the Westway

Chapter Two

Jamie taps the piano keys in front of him quietly. The clock on the wall reads 07:32, he presses down notes into something that sounds vaguely like one of Damon's old songs. He'd only heard them a few times, sneaking into shows he was forbidden to enter by both Damon and Alex. He yawns as they walk into the music rooms to join him, greeting them with a gapped tooth smile.

Damon doesn't smile back; he staggers to sit at the piano next to Jamie, his hair messy and tie too loose for his normal standard.

"What's up, Dammo?" Jamie crouches beside him, patting the brunette's shoulder.

"I wouldn't ask." Alex dumps his guitar case in the corner and follows over to where the others are sat.

"Liam, innit." Damon sighs and starts tapping keys on the piano. He gets up, rubbing his eye, showing his need for the conversation not to go any further. Alex walks to get his bass from the corner while Jamie pulls a chair into the middle of the room.

Damon sits on the floor in front of Jamie, resting his head on the younger's knees as he begins to play through chords on the guitar in his lap. Absent mindedly, Jamie runs a hand through Damon's hair, grinning as he hums along to the soft chords.

"There's somebody at the door." Alex looks over at the pair from tuning his guitar, "Are you gonna get it?"

"I'm too comfortable here." Jamie whines and leans back in his chair, pressing his palm to his temple.

"I wouldn't get it if I were you, my mother always says that an unopened door is a happy door. That's why we never open ours."

"What if it's important? What if it's something good?"

"This is East London, Jamie. Nobody's bringing us a cake,unless it's a cake made of dog shit and gang crime..." Alex trails off as the person pokes their head round the door.

"It's Graham!" Jamie smiles and waves the boy at the door over. He stumbles over a pile of leads on the floor, pressing his glasses further up thr bridge of his nose until they're almost touching his home-cut fringe.

"I didn't know you had friends, Hewlett." Damon turns to face Jamie, faking surprise to irritate him.

"Graham's in year ten, cut it out, Dammo," Jamie swats a hand at Damon, who is now cooing and messing his hair. "I did his art homework for him a couple times."

"Aw, baby Hewll did somefink' for his boyfriend."

"Fuck off, Damon. You're the one who's gay."

Damon's jaw drops slightly. He makes eye contact with Alex across the room, who is beginning to pay attention to the conversation. His voice is hoarse, pressing a hand to his throat. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing." Alex goes wide-eyed and quiet for a moment, before adding, "I promise." His hair falls over his face, breaking their eye contact. Damon grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder; stopping where Alex is still sat. He grabs the latter's jaw gently, blocking their faces from Graham and Jamie's views. He tilts Alex's face up to him and raises his eyebrows.

The door clicks shut behind him, Graham is still stood in the corner with a guitar in his arms. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and adjusts his glasses, "He's pretty, isn't'e?" His tongue catches on his teeth as he speaks, he folds his blazer sleeves up to his elbows.

Alex rests his chin on the bass in his lap and sighs. "He is, ain't he."