Page 16 of Break the Rule
“Because I deserve the mess.”
“You’re even more dramatic than Alec.”
“I’m going to tell him you said that.”
“Liar,” Andrew retorts, calling his bluff.
Charlie groans, throwing an arm over his face. “It’s been almost two weeks, Annie.”
“One week,” Andrew corrects. “Also, breaks are supposed to be good. I read they can recharge creativity.”
Charlie focuses on the tiny clink of paintbrushes being dropped back into the can.
“It won’t kill you to not paint,” Andrew says.
“Yes, it will,” Charlie argues. “It’s not about the money or having a piece to sell. I feelwrongwhen I can’t create.”
“You’re never wrong,” Andrew counters, setting the can down. Charlie pulls his arm off his face to peer at him, watching his movements. A lifetime of having his own image reflected back at him should make him used to it, but sometimes it catches him off guard, makes his chest tight, feeling like part of him is walking around without his permission. More than one person has suggested he and Andrew are codependent, but Charlie doesn’t give a flying fuck what they think since none of them ever grew up not only sharing the womb with someone but a face and a heart too.
“I feel wrong,” Charlie sighs, chalking up his intense reactions to, well, everything lately, on his current creative block. “What if I’ve lost my ability to create for real this time? What if this is it?”
Despite worrying over this exact thing more than once over the last week, saying it out loud has Charlie tasting bile. He's pretty sure he’d walk off a cliff if he couldn’t paint anymore. It’s not about the money or the prestige or seeing his art in galleries—though that’s pretty great. It’s about creating something that makes him feel grounded in his humanity. It makes him feel connected.
Creating things, particularly painting, is what makes Charlie who he is. Without it, he feels like nothing.
“You say this at least once every couple months, and it’s never true. And before you start getting your feelings hurt, I am not belittling your feelings, I’m just reminding you that what feels true right now is not the objective truth.”
Slowly Andrew lowers himself to the dirty floor, onto the leaves and grass that have blown in through the wide open double doors as he sits cross-legged beside Charlie. Taking a deep breath, Charlie rolls onto his side, pillowing his head in Andrew’s lap.
“You don’t get it,” Charlie whispers. “You’re not—” but he breaks off, unsure how to say it without being a dick.
“I’m not creative,” Andrew finishes. “It’s okay to say it. I’m not offended. I’m not like you. I never have been. You’ve always had a little something extra no one else had.”
Breathing deeply, Charlie closes his eyes. Sometimes he doesn’t like being different from Andrew.
“Maybe if I lost all my creativity, I could get a job with you.”
“Charlie, you wouldn’t last a week in an office job.”
“I know,” Charlie moans pathetically. “Seriously. I’m not cut out for a 9-5, Annie. I don’t want a steady, reliable job like you do. Can you imagine doing something where everything is the same every single day? Every. Day.”
“Yes, I can,” Andrew replies. “It’s fantastic. Wake up at five thirty. Coffee on the balcony at five thirty-five. Shower at six. In the office by eight. Lunch at eleven on the dot and home by four thirty every day even with traffic. Leaves me plenty of time to come over and bug you.”
“Predictable fucker,” Charlie sighs. “I think I’d kill myself if my days were like that. No offense.”
“No worries,” Andrew intones in that neutral voice he’s so good at. “Saying no offense absolutely makes everything that precedes not offensive.”
“Sarcastic fucker.”
“Two fuckers already. Pretty soon, I’ll just be fucker.”
“Nah, I gotta save that for Jason,” Charlie grins, thinking about how easy his younger brother is to fuck with. Like his youngest brother Alec, he’s got a heart of gold, but Jason is as oblivious as he is kind which makes him fun to fuck with.
“Speaking of Jason,” Andrew starts. “You should come with me to see him later. Get out of the house. You haven’t left all week.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone,” Charlie grumbles flopping onto his stomach. He turns his head to the side, leaving his cheek resting on Andrew’s thigh.
“You need a change of scenery. You’ve been bitchy all week and?—”
