Donny furrowed his brow. “He left?”
Gabriel nodded. “He looked pretty upset. Is everything okay?”
Donny opened his mouth and closed it. Why would Roland leave without saying anything? He just stepped away and then decided to go? That didn’t make any sense.
“Maybe go after him,” Gabriel suggested.
Donny nodded and gave both men an apologetic smile. “You’re right. Gabriel, can you tell Athena I’ll be right back?” He looked toward Chris. “It was great to see you again, man. We should get together soon.”
“Sure thing, Donny.” Chris smiled and stepped back to let Donny pass by.
On his way out of the restaurant, he dug his phone out but found no messages or calls from Roland. He typed out a text.
Donny: Where’d you go? Gabriel said you took off.
He leaned against a wall outside and waited, receiving no reply. He dialed Roland’s number and was sent to voicemail after one ring. He called again and received the same treatment. He tried a third time and it didn’t even ring. Donny groaned in frustration and opened his ride-share app and called for a car.
He was back at Roland’s less than half an hour later, and as he rode the elevator up, his frustration grew. He didn’t so much care that Roland had effectively made him leave his birthday party early by disappearing without a word. What he cared about was the fact that something made Roland leave and he didn’t even tell Donny about it, then didn’t text him to say if everything was okay.
Donny came to the front door of Roland’s penthouse and found it open. Pete was dangerously close to making a break for it, but Donny scooped him up on his way inside and closed the door behind him. Pete’s water bowl had been knocked over and there was a puddle of water in front of the fridge, the doors of which were open.
“Roland?” Donny called out, carefully placing Pete on the back of the couch and petting down his back before making his way further into the house. Donny heard noises coming from the studio, so he went that way. The door was open and Roland was indeed inside.
“Roland?” Donny asked again, this time from the doorway, with his voice quieter. Roland was behind an easel, partially obscured from Donny, but his head snapped up at the sound of Donny’s voice. Roland was a mess. His cheeks were tear streaked and he had smears of black paint across his face. He’d taken off his blazer and had more black paint down the side of his white shirt in the shape of his fingers, like he’d tried to wipe his hand clean and failed.
Roland’s mouth tipped up in a snarl. “Why are you here?”
Donny stepped back, shocked. “What do you mean, why am I here? You took off without a word. Gabriel said you looked upset, and you weren’t answering my calls or texts. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
Roland slammed his hand into the canvas in front of him which sent it toppling to the ground, taking the easel with it. The bang of wood against the floor ricocheted through the mostly empty room, and Donny flinched.
“What is your problem?” Donny stepped back into the room. He dared a glance down at the canvas Roland had pushed over and found it to be a vase of flowers. Or, it had been a vase of flowers. It looked as though Roland had squirted black paint directly onto the canvas then smeared it around with his hand, which would explain the streaks on his face and his shirt.
“What is your problem?” Roland mocked him.
Donny realized now that something must have set Roland off at the party. He hadn’t had a bad day in a while, and Donny hadn’t ever seen him this destructive before, but he recognized the self-sabotage for what it was.
“Why are you destroying things, Roland?” Donny’s hair fell into his eyes and he left it, hoping it would obscure the mix of emotions that were playing across his face.
“It’s what I fucking do. Or did you not listen when I told you that before?” Roland stalked past him and banged around in the kitchen before coming back with a knife.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Donny’s voice was loud, and he couldn’t mask the tremor.
Roland raised the hand holding the steak knife into the air and brought it down in the corner of the canvas. He tore it free and stabbed the flowers again, and again, and again.
“Roland!” Donny yelled, hoping anger would mask how scared he felt. He wrapped his arms around himself to try and hold his heart inside his chest.
Roland stabbed the canvas again, then looked up and Donny and threw the knife against the wall behind him. It clattered against the drywall before it fell to the floor.
“Happy fucking birthday, Adonis,” he kicked the canvas across the room toward Donny.
“What did I fucking do to deserve this, Roland?” Donny leaned down and picked the canvas up, then set it aside against the wall. He held his hands up in the sign of surrender and took another step closer to Roland.
“Did you ever really want to be in a relationship with me?” Roland spat.
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t have even brought it up if I didn’t. What is going on with you tonight?” Donny wassofar beyond being able to handle Roland with kid gloves right now. He’d never seen Roland this distressed, and he wasn’t entirely confident he wouldn’t go for the knife again. Donny could see the tension in Roland’s entire body as he stalked back and forth across the studio space, kicking things over and away as he went.
“Did.I knew it.” Roland nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets as he stopped walking and turned his back to Donny.
