Save Me - Lex -Chuck’s Luck
894 Words
We finish up the nachos and beers and I say that I’m going to go draw in my office.
“I’m just going to clean this plate off,” he says.
I head into my office and turn on my CD player, Anna Nalick is in. I sit down to my drafting table and switch on the overhead light. I wanted to finish the scene, sketch only, not the dialogue, although I do have an idea of what I want it to read.
“Cool room.”
I look up and Bryan has walked into my office. I watch as he walks around looking at the comic strips on my walls. “You must really like Chuck’s Luck,” he says.
“I do,” I respond.
“Are you a stalker or something?” He laughs. “Your walls are plastered with them.”
He walks over to my table and sees my sketch. “Wait a second…”
“Bryan, do you know what I do for a living?”
“You’re an artist, right?” He looks confused.
“I draw a well-known comic strip called ‘Chuck’s Luck.’ It comes out every Sunday,” I smile.
“I thought that the artist’s name was Alex Miles and he’s a guy. Your name is Lex, right?”
“My name is Alexandria Niles, Lex for short. Alex Miles is my pen name and I’m definitely not a guy. Of course everyone assumes that Alex is a guy.” I roll my eyes.
“No f*****g way!”
I laugh out loud, “You said ‘f**k’.”
“You’re Alex Miles? No one has ever seen you in person. Like, you don’t do appearances or anything.”
“That’s right. I only do written interviews. That’s my deal. I like my private life to remain private. So please don’t tell anybody.” I smile.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe that you draw Chuck’s Luck. That’s my favorite comic strip.” He smiles hugely at me.
“That’s good to know, Bry.”
“Is this for Sunday?” He asks, looking over my shoulder.
I glance back and our faces our inches apart again, so I quickly turned back around.
“No, I’ve finished and sent in the next two Sundays worth of strips.”
I can feel his chest bump into my shoulder. “Bry?”
“Yeah?”
I turn around again, “Personal space.” I smile to soften the blow.
He registers how close we are and looks at my lips before taking a step back. He takes a drink from his beer. “You’re having another one?”
“Is that okay?”
“You’re going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.” I smile, shading in a street lamp.
Either he didn’t hear me or chooses to ignore the hangover comment because he doesn’t respond to it. When he speaks finally, he says, “Hey, that’s right outside,” talking about the street lamp that I’ve drawn.
“Yep.”
“It’s like it’s all coming together now; the apartments, this street, places in the strip are all from around here, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“That’s so cool,” he says.
“Have a seat, Bry. You are making me nervous hovering like that.”
“Can I still watch you draw?”
I nod, not taking my eyes off the street lamp.
“Hunh.”
“What? I ask.
“That kind of looks like a p***s,” he says.
“What!” I sputter, looking up to find him twisting his neck to look at the picture from a different angle.
“A p***s. Don’t you think so?”
“You are too much Mr. Avery. Why are you thinking about p*****s?” I asked him.
“I’m not.” He shrugs. “Well, just mine.”
I snap my head up, “What?”
He shrugs again, “I was just thinking that it’d been a while since I got head.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, laughingly.
“She won’t do it.”
“What? Why not?”
“She thinks it’s gross,” he looks sad. “You do, don’t you? You have a really nice mouth.”
“Thank you, I think?” I shake my head and snicker.
“So, do you?” He asks.
“Head?”
He nods.
“Are you asking me to? I think your girlfriend might get a little jealous,” I say, smirking at him and going back to my sketch.
“Your lips look really soft,” he says quietly, but loud enough that I hear it.
“Bryan?”
“Hunh?”
“You are drunk. Maybe you should go lay down.”
“I am kind of tired...” he nods, finishing up his beer. “Okay.”
He gets up and walks out of my office.
I don’t hear the front door, which is odd, so I get up and walk to the living room. He’s not on the couch.
So I head back down the hall, and as I pass by my bedroom; he is passed out on my bed.
“This is going to be a really long night,” I say out loud.
- Writer
