"What are you doing here?" Peter is quick to demand answers, "Why are you here, Elizabeth?"
"Just figured to stop by, you know, talk." Her voice sends his stomach to twist and turn. Peter is beyond lividity but he doesn't show it.
He begins to walk away.
The sound of her long heels seems to slither up close to him as he reaches for the front door.
"I don't want to talk with you. I already have enough regrets, you know." Peter seethes and then turns to see Elizabeth now on the concrete stairs. She looked hurt but Peter knew better.
"Don't you think I do too? One of them is realizing how much I-"
"No, Liz. I can't take it. I don't want to see you. Go home." Peter snaps and shoots a dark glare at his ex-girlfriend. He gets the door open and steps over the threshold with haste.
The history between them is one filled with burning hatred where fiery passion once was. Elizabeth looks at him from the steps while he nearly shuts the door.
Yet he can't and he doesn't know why.
"I'm sorry for what I did, Peter. It wasn't right and-''
"Enough, Elizabeth.'' Peter turns on his heel towards the woman before him. His eyes can't seem to tear away from her shocked gaze. It angered him. How could she ever be so shocked despite knowing what she did? His past actions also haunt him. The feeling ebbs and flows, the silence thickening with tension as they stand in a stalemate. Peter finally rips his sight away from his ex-girlfriend, biting his tongue from saying some nasty things.
Elizabeth however doesn't know when to quit. She never has and Peter knows this. It's why he can't walk away. After all these years, he'd still be standing in the same spot she left him.
"Are you really done with me?" Elizabeth asks, clearly upset by this by the rising tone of her voice. She tries to ease closer to Peter, her brows furrowed in disbelief by this.
"What kind of question is that, Liz? Are you kidding me? Of course I am.'' Peter responds incredulously, "I...am seeing someone now. I moved on. I'm not going to waste years mourning you.'' It's like his heart starts to bleed all over again, looking at someone he really did care about. His face falls in deep contemplation about her coming back.
They always come back.
"We aren't good for each other. You hurt me. I hurt you. Relationships don't work if you can't trust one another. You need to go home, okay?'' Peter's tone falters from anger to defeat. He doesn't want to fight. Elizabeth simply nods and it sends a chill down his spine. Confusion rests on his shoulders and he shakes it off. The look she gives him makes him think there's something else bubbling right underneath the surface.
Elizabeth turns and leaves, ascending the concrete steps and eventually driving off. Peter lingers while in the front door, now left with those old emotions fluttering around in his head. The ghosts of his past fill his ears and he curls inside back to his basement dwelling.
Peter decided that this tour thing would just get him further from whatever it was that he was feeling. He had to keep busy.
His mother eventually descends down the steps to see him. She smiles warmly at her son but is always quick to notice Peter's deep confliction.
"I came down to see what was going on. I noticed a cold draft coming in.'' She shuts the door as Peter then heads up the stairs to where he'd then sit at the kitchen table.
"I'm fine mom, really. She uh...came back supposedly for a 'little visit' but we all know that's a bunch of bullshit.''
"You're lying,'' Nettie says as she sits across from him, "You're not fine. You have that little crease on your forehead.''
"No,'' Peter sighs in defeat, "Guess I'm not.''
"You have so much to look forward to now. She shouldn't be your concern anymore. You have that sweet girl, Y/n, the touring, the music...isn't it all that exciting?'' Nettie tries to cheer him up and he nods and shrugs as if to dismiss the touring part.
"Yeah. It is. Are you sure you'll be okay when I'm gone though?''
The worry settles in his stomach more and more as the days go by. He fears something may go wrong the moment he leaves. Leaving home seemed to be a bit more of a challenge but exposure for music wouldn't be very fruitful having stayed in one place. A lot of sacrifice to his personal comforts would most definitely be used for this new path.
His mother, one of the best women in his life, would be at home without him to be at her aid. She'd progress in the years, becoming frail to the changing seasons. Each shift in the weather would make him worry to some degree, but that familiar hand hold eased his mind. Nettie smiled reassuringly.
"I'll be fine. God is with me and he is with you, my dear.''
Peter nodded slowly, holding onto his mother's hand a bit tighter. It's like all of the loudness in his head dimmed into a soft quiet. He felt reassured, clear headed.
Even though he hadn't believed in God, he believed in Nettie.
–
The next day, Peter had headed to Duff's for a quick drink with the rest of the guys. They would greet him loudly and motion him over to sit. Peter accepted but hadn't talked all that much.
"What's the matter man? Girl troubles?" Johnny asks and it leaves Peter to sigh and quickly order himself a drink.
"Man, I don't even want to talk about it," Peter swigs down a mouthful of wine, the bitterness sticking to his teeth, "Feeling haunted."
The word itself leaves just as much residue as the wine. He shifts a bit and his friends are immediately tuned in. Due to the heaviness of his presence, something has gone down recently. They weren't wrong either.
"In time, man. In time. . ." Johnny patted his friend's shoulder, not forcing whatever plagued his mind.
The wine, however, began to speak for him.
"She showed up at my house the other day, man. It was like I was seeing some fuckin' ghost. I should've put a line of salt at the doorway just for extra measure." Peter joked, a half-hearted chuckle escaped his mouth. All the regular patrons of the establishment had long gone but his friends and himself remained.
"Damn man, that's tough. The hell she say, anyways?" Kenny asked, a few bottles deep as well.
"The regular bullshit. The "I'm sorry for what I did. I have regrets too.' type of apology. Think it really was just cause to get under my skin or my covers. Who knows?" Peter sets down the wine glass with a sigh. His gaze set on the rim of the glass, a deep red wine swirling within.
"You tell Y/n about it? She seems like the type of girl to, well, hear you out." Josh looks at Pete, leaning a bit in toward the bar. "Or is it just the kind of thing you don't say?"
"I think she'd be pretty at odds," adds Kenny.
Johnny nods with a shrug.
"I think it's just one of those things. You were pretty straightforward with Liz though by the sound of it so. . ."
Peter is once again falling into another rabbit hole of intense and emotional turmoil. He taps at the bar with his fingers and briefly bites his lip in thought.
"Wasn't the right time. Y/n has some things going on at the moment. I care about her a lot. I'm more worried about her than I am about myself. It's— I don't know. Fuck."
Peter suddenly lifts himself up and out of the building. It's far from a graceful exit and the sun makes his eyes squint. Suddenly, his eyes are set on that photography billboard.
Nightingale Photography– Picture building a better tomorrow.
Peter would recognize the logo splashing the borders of the large advertisement. A nightingale flying out of the lens makes Pete take a step back before a hand is rested on his shoulder.
"You alright man?'' Josh comes out, eyes scanning over his friend briefly before following the others gaze to the billboard. Peter nods. The wine makes his head buzz.
"That's where she works.''
"Who? Y/n?'' Josh asks and there's a slight brow raise.
"Yeah. It's the only photography place in this general area that's not in fuckin' Queens or Manhattan or some shit."
"Seems about right. You know, we could use a main photographer for the band. Least we know she's good company and not a total dick." Josh says it pretty bluntly and that does set a lightbulb off in Peter's head. At first, he just laughs it off. He made a connection to the drummer before Johnny. Sal.
He was, in fact, a total dick. Appreciated him all the same, though.
"That could be arranged but I don't know. It would be unfair to just tear her out of Brooklyn when she just moved here." Peter huffed.
"It's just a local opportunity. Hell, who knows? Maybe she'll like it.''
He shifted his weight slightly on his feet; the faint buzz of inebriation makes him rub his temple now and again. It would take Peter at least 5 whole bottles of wine to feel any sort of major buzz due to his size. His friends wouldn't allow it too much and Peter had a job to do. That pride in what he does keeps him standing.
Josh flicks a few strands of black curly hair away from his eyes. His gaze follows to where Peter remains focused. The billboard makes him scoff.
"You'd think for photographers they'd have a less shitty billboard.''
This makes Peter chuckle and nod.
"Right. Picture building a better billboard,'' he laughs.
–
Days like these, you truly questioned your profession. Photography felt larger than this tiny office cubicle. Peter's words rattled in your head as you mindlessly responded to a few emails. Going home for a while didn't seem bad. You weren't a quitter either. Vivian made sure that you knew your place and it was way below her rank (if you even wanted to call it that.)
Though, your gaze lifted from your desk when she slapped a big yellow envelope on your desk.
Your first official project.
She doesn't say much, if anything at all and gives a little snicker before heading off. The way she had briefly stopped by and left made you feel a certain residue in the air. It's heavy and a simple good luck would be needed.
You open up the envelope and read its contents. The first line catches your eye.
Life is painted with many different perspectives and filled with stories. Tell us yours.
You continued to read and with each passing line, your heart picked up the pace. The excitement was a little hard to mask but you thought this was it. This was the thing you were truly looking for.
When you had finally returned home, the gears started to turn and turn. The papers on your kitchen table began to accumulate in piles, scattered with the many ideas you had. You had even gone through some of the pictures you took when you first moved to Brooklyn. The memory makes you smile. It grows a bit more fond as Peter twirls around such memory and a blush creeps up on your face. It's hard not to daydream about him these days. Nothing was official yet but it certainly felt that way at times. You had met his friends, his mother. Everything felt perfect. Sometimes you wondered if you were dreaming.
As of right now, you began to lay out the rough draft for your assignment. It sounded easy enough but the fear of it becoming trite rested on your shoulders.
You'd lift yourself from your kitchen chair, papers in hand and pin them up on a cork board in your room. The sight before you made you take a few steps back, further analyzing the possibilities before you.
What your life had consisted of right now was nothing but up in the air; homesickness, seeing a guy steadily who is also part of this rising band. It all felt busy and yet you still felt where you always seemed to remain.
What would your dad think of all this? What would he say?
It paralyzed you in some aspects. You'd grow to want to make him proud but with him gone for a good few years now, it felt like a shot in the dark.
Were you really wanting to do what your heart desired? Or had you fallen victim to something deeper?
Ring! Riiing!
Your phone chimes from your bedside and you step over to answer. To your surprise, a slurring Peter is on the other end. He doesn't sound dismal. He sounds almost elated when the words fly out of his mouth with vigor but the alcohol puts it through some muddy molasses filter.
"Pete? Woah– hey. Slow down for a second. Where are you? You okay?'' You ask him nervously and you sit down on your bed, holding the phone to your ear.
"Shit, sorry. Yeah. I was...um..''
Peter's words falter as if he's now facing some type of embarrassment. It tangles in the tone of his deep baritone voice. You chuckle softly at the sudden shyness.
"Yeah?''
"I have an offer for you. I was wonderin' if you wanted to come by and help us with a bit of a photoshoot for the band. I know it's sudden but if you're cool with wrangling us monkeys together like some circus...'' Peter chuckles and it makes your smile deepen. You briefly look at the corkboard filled with that assignment.
Fuck it.
"Yeah, definitely. I can help out. You sure you guys want me to be doing this kind of thing? Have you contacted any other photographers?'' You question him a bit further.
"A few. I may have broken a few camera lenses. . .gave one rabies. The usual.'' Peter jests.
"Sounds like a whole lot of fun. You're not gonna give me rabies, are you?'' You grin and you can hear Peter hum in thought.
"No. Well, maybe if you ask me to. I can go for another bite to eat. Bet you'd taste wonderful, sweetheart.'' Peter chuckles lowly, surely knowing what kind of effect he had on you.
You blushed red and put a hand up to your face as you processed what he had said. Peter was pretty buzzed and you melted from his words. From the way he infested your thoughts it may as well be rabies on how feral you felt about him.
"Jeez,'' you laughed, "Alright, alright. When, where and what time?''
"Saturday, Brighton Beach and ten to ten-thirty is good. Can't wait to see you.'' he sighs faintly, "I miss you."
"We just saw each other yesterday,'' you snicker and he huffs. You can hear his grinning from the other end.
"Doesn't matter, sweetheart. Seems like years on my end. I feel like a dog waiting for their owner to come home or like one of my cats' at 3 in the morning.''
The sentiment is wrapped in a joking bow, as it always is being gifted to you.
"I miss you too, Pete. You have no idea. Thank you for this opportunity. I'm glad I can help you and the band.''
"It's not a problem at all. It actually was Josh's idea. I figured since our last conversation you needed a bit of redirection and needed it most. I couldn't picture a better photographer than you.'' He laughs at his own jokes and of course easily makes you crack up.
What a dork.
"But I can picture you taking too many shots,'' you replied snickering.
"Ohoh, good one there, baby. I'll have to think of more.''
"Sleep on it. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Take it easy, honey."
After such sweet little goodbyes, you were left smiling like an idiot at the foot of your bed.
You spent much of your time awake in the later hours beginning to put together your assignment. Many of your photos consisted of nature, the flight from Minnesota to Brooklyn, L'Amour. A certain set of pictures you haven't opened yet are sitting on your kitchen counter. You believe them to be the ones you took on your first date with Peter. You're not sure why you're afraid to open them. You think maybe that there's a mistake in the inking or just a blurry capture of what really was a nice moment between the two of you.
Finally, you push yourself to peel open the envelope and carefully slip out the snapshots.
The first two pictures were blurry. Accidental slips of the finger over the camera button are a great reasoning why.
The third picture was gorgeous. You wouldn't have expected it to be part of the same batch.
Peter has pure love in his eyes. His grasp around you is a solid foundation to keep you off the ground. You both smile as if there's no problems in the world whatsoever. With him, it felt like that and if there was? Surely there were to be jests thrown about to cope.
He smiles softly, looking at you as you're his whole world. You're beaming and blushing from the overall position the two of you were in but evidently happy.
Content is the first feeling that washes over you. It's like a warm blanket. You hang it up on your fridge next to that trash pickup schedule and then get back to work.
At least now you had a muse.
--
Hello readers! Was finally able to finish writing this chapter which I have been chipping away at this month. Things are finally begin to move and take shape. :) I appreciate all the support and you guys definitely help me out so mwah mwah thank you. <3 Writers block is so fkin' laaame. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you in the next one!
~coffinpuppy