With a tap of his finger, he dismissed all notifications and rolled over in bed. His mind worked furiously over his problem, but he still didn’t know what to do. He wanted to see Casey badly, but he knew that barging in on her was probably the worst thing he could do.
As he lay there thinking about his options, he realized it had been ages since he’d seen his family, especially Scott. He knew his parents had gone on some kind of gallery tour, showcasing their own work, and that was why they hadn’t been home. Jake texted Scott to see where he was and what he was up to.
Scott texted back that he was staying in his loft, working on a monster project. Scott could paint, draw, and sculpt, and like most artists, once an idea seized him, it didn’t let him go until it was finished to satisfaction.
He’d been holed up in his studio, sleeping on the couch while he slaved over his latest creation. Jake didn’t want to intrude, but he did need help, so he asked Scott if he could drop by. He didn’t wait for an answer but got up and threw on some clothes straight away. Scott wouldn’t shut him out in a crisis, no matter how deep he was stuck in a new idea.
He headed to his brother’s place, grabbing a few pizzas on the way. When he knocked on Scott’s door, he saw his brother’s eyes light up immediately.
At least he’s glad to see me. Or maybe it’s just the pizza.
“I’m glad you came, bro,” Scott groaned. “This bitch is kicking my ass, and I need a break.”
“Which bitch?” Jake asked, looking around. Scott strode across the room, pulling a towel off his shoulder and wiping his hands on it. It was covered in a riot of colors, all blue, green, and purple-violet tones. Scott pointed vehemently at a massive canvas on the easel that shared the same colors.
“This bitch!” he howled. Jake grinned, shaking his head. Scott was fantastically dramatic at times. He could probably add drama to his skill list without any effort at all.
He knew this project was kicking his brother’s ass pretty hard, though. Scott was only wearing a pair of faded jeans, and he had paint smears all over himself as well as the towel. His hair was messy and had a greasy look, as if he hadn’t washed it in days. There was a nice cast of stubble across his jaw too.
“Take a break,” Jake said. “Have some pizza. You got any booze?”
“Fuck yeah, I do,” Scott said, pulling out a tall, dark bottle. “I only just got it out last night. I’ve been working on this thing twelve hours a day, and I’m finally cracking. I just can’t make it come out the way I see it in my head.”
Jake felt a moment of such intense frustration it was almost pain. He didn’t understand what Scott was talking about, and he never would. Even though he and Casey had bonded over their shared inability to understand art, she had so many artist friends. Surely, she’d get this situation more than he did.
Jake shook his head and took a huge bite of pizza. Scott sat beside him and handed him the bottle, and Jake took a massive slug.
“Whoa,” he said, his throat burning and his head swimming. “What is this shit?”
“Shifter shine,” Scott said, taking a sip and glaring at the wall. “Ten times more potent than the strongest alcohol known to humankind.”
“Hmm,” Jake took another slug. He could get a nice buzz from decent booze, but this stuff was definitely going to mess him up. Jake took another sip. He definitely wanted to get a bit fucked up.
“I know you don’t get what I’m going through,” Scott said, gesturing at the painting. “But I’m suffering.”
“I wish I did,” Jake said softly. “I don’t have a creative bone in my body. This artistic thing…I know it’s torturous at times, but it just goes beyond anything my mind can come up with. I’ve been jealous of you more than once.”
“What?” Scott mumbled through a piece of pizza. His eyes were wide and shocked. Jake shrugged.
“I know I’m not the same as you. I’m not good enough for Mom and Dad and all your artist friends. Shit, even half of our cousins are into the scene.”
Jake took another big sip of booze and sighed.
“I don’t care anymore, though. If I’m not good enough, that’s just how it is, and I can’t change it.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Scott cried. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”
Jake slowly turned his head to give his brother a very serious look. The shifter shine must have been affecting him already because he could barely focus. “I can’t keep up with you, man. It is what it is.”
“Jake,” Scott said very seriously. “I’ve always admired you. I had no idea you felt this way. Usually, it’s the artsy kid that cops it.”
“Not in our family,” Jake muttered, taking another drink.
“True, but you’ve always had it all, man. Straight A’s in school, all the hot girls you could ever want, money-making skills that put our great-grandad to shame. Seriously, Jake, I’m having trouble wrapping my head around this.”
“Well, I don’t know what to say,” Jake said, laughing softly. “It looks like we were both wanting to be each other. It’s as much of a shock to me as it is to you.”
“Bro.” Scott leaned over, wrapping his arms around his brother and hugging him tightly. For a few seconds, they slapped each other on the back, enjoying the new connection they’d made with each other.