Chapter 3 - Why You Shouldn't Trust Your Friends (Ryker)

"Ryker get your butt up! I'm not paying all this money for art school if you not going to go!"

I heard mom call out while I was in a state between awake and asleep.

"Ryker!" She called again.

"I'm up!" I called. I groaned and pulled back the covers and lazily pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a random shirt. I tucked the lazuli pendant under my shirt. Ethan always made fun of the fact that the only thing my parents left me was jewelry. I don't mind as much. It was something and that was enough for me. I tugged on a sweatshirt as I stumbled down the hall, still half asleep.

I stopped in the bathroom and gave myself a lazy look in the mirror. While the sides of my hair was shaven down, the top half was a mop of dark brown curls, my green eyes hung droopy from my tired state.

I brushed my teeth quickly and then went out to the kitchen and saw Mom praddling about the kitchen.

"Morning sweetie," Mom said facing the stove.

She was already in her green nurse scrubs, her tight dark curls were pinned up in a mess of bun on her head, a quickly attempt at makeup covered her face and lined her soft brown eyes.

"Morning," I could smell the bacon that she was frying.

"Happy Birthday!" Mom smiled as she sat down a plate in front of me. It was piled up with bacon, eggs, and toast.

"Thanks, Mom," I said as I started to stuff food in my mouth.

"Your welcome honey," she sighed as she witnessed my rude food manners. "I have to be at the hospital soon. I will be home late, I'm covering for Dottie," I nodded, used to her long work hours. "There is food in the fridge to make dinner. Got any big plans for the day?"

I swallowed and nodded.

"Ethan said he wanted to hang out after I get out of class."

"Hey, I'm proud of you. Going to class during the summer shows dedication. Your work is really improving," She smiled rubbing my arm.

"I think so too. It's really helping," I admitted, shrugging.

"Good because it's expensive as hell," I smiled and set my plate in the sink.

"Alright," Mom sighed as she gathered her stuff together. "I'm gonna leave and you should too soon,"

"Okay,"

"Can I get one hug? Please! A gift for your aging mother! I mean how are you already seventeen?!"

I sighed and stood up. My five nine height hovering over her five-six height.

She wrapped her arms around me and gave a noise of distaste.

"Your so thin, you need to eat more, maybe if you would eat breakfast like I tell you -"

"Mom, aren't you going to be late for work?" I interrupt in a sly tone, she squints at me and gives a small laugh.

"Yes and that's the only reason your off the hook. Goodbye, I love you,"

I gave her a small wave as she shut the door and I got up and double-checked my bag, I grabbed my phone and locked the door on my way out.

-*-

Art school was my idea back in the fall. Going in the summer was my mom's idea. The only bright side was that I could hang out with Ethan in the afternoon. The only problem was usually I had the day free for my birthday, today I had a class. Since we were always short on money, she always got me small gifts, but this year art school covers my birthday, Christmas, Easter, and all the holidays in between. I really liked it though. The teachers were helpful and the supplies were endless.

I entered the school and was hit with a rush of cold air and the air smelled of paint. It was only week two and I hadn't made any friends yet. I was fine with that, I was to focus on my work not chit-chatting.

I plugged my head into some music and painted the day away until it was time to leave, that was my daily routine.

I took my seat and uncovered my painting I was working on. Mom didn't have a lot of advice on art but she did know one thing. Paint what you know So I drew my dreams. Lately, they're been ranging between this guy in shadows and this girl.

The painting I was painting now was the girl. It wasn't some fantasy girl though, I wasn't crushing on her or anything, it was more protective. The dreams were like I was watching through a mirror and was watching her. This picture was her sitting on a window sill, looking out at the city. It was dark and rainy. It was beautiful, not because of her looks, I mean she was pretty but that's not what I was talking about. It was because of the essence, she looks so deep in the thought and held so much raw emotion. Right now it was just a sketch, it still needs its color. I opened a couple of paints and spread them on board.

"Ah! Yes, Ryker, this is one of my favorites. I can't wait for it to be finished. It's just so raw. I might just buy it off of you," Ms. Martian commented as she walked by.

"Thanks,"

"Your going places boy! I can feel it!"

I smiled and shook my head, plugging in my earbuds. Ms.Martian was in her mid-'70s but lived and acted like she was still in her twenties. She was wild as her art, which normally involved lots of yarn

I settled in and turned up the volume as Twenty One Pilots, House Of Gold started to play. I dipped a brush into some dark paint and let my hand carry out my mind's image. I always lost time painting. Hours could go by and I wouldn't notice. Most of the time Ms.Martian would have to tell me to back up, that class was over. On a good day, Ethan would text me that he was outside and I would leave with everyone else. Today was a good day.

Waiting outside, I got good news.

I put my supplies away and looked over the painting. A range of gray boarded the canvas. I have a bit more color in the windows background.

"You know you can stay a little longer if you like," Ms.Martian suggested cleaning off brushes at the sink.

"I'm good, I've got a friend waiting for me," I replied, slipping my bag over my shoulder.

"Okay, enjoy your weekend. I'll see you Monday,"

"Oh! Ryker I almost forgot! Happy Birthday," I smiled and left the building. Ethan was waiting for me on the stairs.

"Hey," I called as I met him.

"Sup, so hear me out,"

I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever it is, no,"

Ethan groaned.

"But, okay listen. One of my brother's buddies runs like this underground club. And he needs some people to work the bar.

"As I said, no,"

"Why!"

"Because all your brother's buddies are sketchy as hell,"

"But we get paid! Fifteen an hour!" I couldn't help but think of Mom. Her working double shifts and picking other people to pay the bills. Not letting me get a job, because she thinks she has it handled.

"Ok, but if we get killed, I'm going to murder you,"

-*-

We entered through a door in the middle of an alleyway. Ethan directed me and we went through a plastic curtain. We entered a large space we a small padded stage in the centered. "Hey, Ethan! I'm so glad your here man!" A guy dressed in baggy jeans and a white tank top, with his hat on backward, waltzed in.

"Yeah so not sketchy," I whispered sarcastically into Ethan's ear. Ethan elbowed me and walked up got the guy.

"Who's your friend?" He asked looking over at me.

"Oh, this is Ryker, "He gave me a head nod.

"Hey man, I'm Mickey,"

"So what's up? What do you need out help with?" Mickey nodded and had us follow him to a small picnic table.

"See the kegs a cooler?"

"Yeah?" Ethan responds.

"If someone comes up, ask what they want and give to them then take their money,"

"Sounds easy enough," I piped up.

"Good, good. Well get ready the show is gonna start soon. Expect a lot of people. Tonight is a big night," Mickey left the way he came. I glared at Ethan, he shrugged his shoulder at me and started to unwrap solo cups.