Donny.
Donny.
Adonis.
Roland’s phone vibrated again and he accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Mr. Wilson, there is a Mr. Smith who has been trying to get in to see you for the past fifteen minutes. We sent him up per your earlier instructions, but he returned and said you weren’t answering the door. Are you not home, sir?” It was the doorman.
“No, I’m here. I was just asleep.” Roland sat up and tucked his dick into his pants.
“Can you please let Mr. Smith in, sir? The other residents are complaining.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Roland hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed.
Louder banging.
Roland pushed himself off the bed and pulled his shirt down. He swerved through the hallway and pulled the front door open and found himself in front of a furious and red-faced Donny.
Donny slammed both of his hands into Roland’s chest, hard, and pushed his way into the penthouse.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Donny’s eyes were angry, a shade of blue much darker than normal. All Roland could think of was how he wanted to bottle it and paint a sunset full of purples, and reds, and this specific blue.
Roland stumbled backward into the kitchen, catching himself on the counter and toppling the vodka bottle from earlier onto its side. Thankfully, it didn’t break, and Roland reached out to right it, his hand shaking violently.
“I was asleep, sorry,” Roland mumbled, finally getting the bottle to stand.
“Jesus, are you fucking drunk? You were asleep? It’s 3:30 in the afternoon, Roland.”
“I’m not drunk.” Roland stepped back and turned away from Donny.
“Yeah? Your vodka breath tells another story.” Donny pulled a messenger bag over his head and set it on the kitchen counter, shaking his head. “Where’s Pete?”
Roland glanced around the living area, unable to locate Pete, and shrugged his shoulders. “Probably in the studio again.”
Donny glared at Roland and stalked off toward the long hallway. Roland lingered in the kitchen, toying with the cap on the vodka.
“Roland!” Donny’s voice echoed down the hallway. Roland twisted the cap closed and rubbed the back of his neck, following the sound of his name. Roland stepped into his studio and was assaulted with memories from earlier in the day. The worthless art, the broken bottle, the destruction, the failure.
Pete was sitting on a shattered plate in a puddle of brown paint, actively chewing at the bandage on his paw. Donny looked up at Roland and his eyes were on fire. He gestured to the paint covered kitten and the destroyed bandage. Donny’s jaw ticked, and he spoke through clenched teeth, “Did you at least give him his medicine?”
Roland looked down at his feet and scratched his cheek, shaking his head. Donny let out a strangled grunt of frustration before he picked up Pete and stomped out of the studio. Roland stayed and listened to the sound of the kitchen faucet turn on. He heard Pete’s mewls of protest and Donny’s voice soothing the injured kitten. The water turned off, and Roland heard Donny fumbling through a plastic bag. More protest from the cat, and then Velcro.
Roland looked around his studio at the felled canvas and the earlier ones that had also fallen short that he’d propped in the corner. He wanted a drink but didn’t dare go back into the kitchen. He heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Donny storm back into the studio.
Donny threw a black notebook at him and kicked the pile of canvases onto their edge.
“You had one fucking job, Roland. I didn’t evenaskyou to do it. You fucking volunteered to watch Pete, and you couldn’t even manage it. You got drunk and fell asleep. What the actual fuck?” Donny kicked the canvases again.
“I did watch Pete,” Roland protested meekly.
“Bullshit,” Donny seethed, “My cat was sitting on a broken plate, covered in paint, eating away his fucking bandage. Fuck you, Roland.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you, no, you’re not.” Donny looked down at the canvases he’d been kicking and his head tilted in a silent question. He looked up at Roland, eyes still fucking furious.
“Well, what then? Just take your cat and go if it’s such an issue for you.” Roland grabbed for the black notebook and extended it toward Donny.
