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With the window half down, gusts of wind fluttered through the car, giving Nacho a sweet moment of relief. He cherished this time, alone in his car, with nothing but the cool breeze as his companion. Work had been increasingly stressful, with Mr. Fring’s anxieties about the recent changes becoming more obvious, at least to Nacho. After working under Tuco for so long, Nacho found he was pretty good at reading people, even Gustavo’s stony gaze.
Then of course there was the incident with his father. He quickly squeezed the bridge of his nose, attempting to block out any looks of disappointment that lingered in the back of his mind. He was going to turn his attention back to the breeze again, when his phone began to buzz. He eyed it for a second, then decided to stop at the side of the road and check the caller.
It was Jesse Pinkman.
Nacho remembered when him and Mike had given their numbers to the new meth manufacturer shortly after he was hired, just as they had with Walter. For some reason though, he was never prepared to actually receive a call from him.
He flipped his phone open and answered.
“Yo,” Jesse said. He was trying to sound casual, but Nacho immediately picked up on the slight waver in his tone.
“Hey. What’s going on?”
“Uh yeah… so my car isn’t working…”
“What?”
“It wouldn’t start up this morning. I asked a neighbor, and he said the engine’s shot, or something,” Jesse said. “Uhh… could you like … drive me to work?”
Nacho paused; a bit surprised at the request. “...You’re not asking Walter?”
“I don’t know, he’s been acting real weird lately, and then with the fly and everything…”
Nacho had no idea what he was talking about, but he could hear Jesse grumbling ‘bitch’ under his breath. “Look, I just really don’t want to be in a car with him right now. We’ll probably get into some horrible accident from arguing with each other while driving.”
Nacho snorted in response, imagining Jesse’s scenario.
“…So, can you pick me up?” He said. Nacho thought about it for a moment, but was silent for a bit too long, so Jesse spoke up again. “...Uh- y’know, It’s cool, if you can’t. I can just ask-”
“No, It’s fine. I’ll come pick you up. Where do you live?”
Jesse let out a little huff against the phone, and Nacho swore he could hear him smile.
“9809 Margo Street. You know where that is? It’s like the southwest part of town.”
“Yeah, I know where that is. I’ll be there in 20.”
“Thanks.”
Nacho hummed a response and hung up. This was going to be an interesting morning.
…
When Nacho slowly pulled into the parking spot next to Jesse’s house, he found himself gazing at the rows of terracotta clay tiles covering its roof, matching many of the other houses in the neighborhood. The rest of the house was covered with an off-white stucco, besides the occasional brick patterning that mostly resided around the windows and entrance. With its overwhelming size and perfectly trimmed lawn, he was surprised the house didn’t come with a white picket fence as well. Nacho wasn’t sure what he expected Jesse’s place to look like, but it wasn’t this.
Nacho got out of the car and leaned against the front side. He took out his phone and sent the Jesse a quick text. Putting his phone back in his pocket, he looked up at the large elm tree shading the entire piece of land. Another cool breeze traveled through, this time wavering in and out of the tree’s branches, causing a soft rustling noise. What was most surprising about Jesse’s house and neighborhood was how peaceful it was. Almost tranquil. That soon changed once Jesse was actually present.
“Yooo! Dude, I didn’t know this was your car. I see it all the time out in the parking lot. Fucking sick.”
Nacho turned his attention towards the other man, and rapidly blinked, pulling himself out of his daydreams.
“Thanks,” Nacho finally responded, slightly embarrassed. He hoped the blush on his face wasn’t obvious, but Jesse seemed too distracted by the car to notice anything. “It’s uh… a 1973 Javelin.”
“You like vintage cars and shit?” He looked up from the vehicle, looking directly at Nacho. His eyes somehow seemed even more saturated than usual.
“Yeah. ”
“Nice,” Jesse said, as he circled the car’s perimeter. He seemed so invested, he practically walked around it like he was a greasy car salesman, eager to sell. Nacho indulged in Jesse’s further interest for the next minute or two, but eventually remembered they both had jobs.
“You ready to go?”
Jesse popped his head up. “Yup.”
Nacho hummed a response and made his way to the other side of the car. Jesse followed, plopping into the front seat, now turning his attention towards the interior of the car, ooo-ing and aaa-ing everything that caught his attention. Nacho turned to the window, feeling his blush grow.
“This car is mad tight, yo! Whole lot better than Mr. White’s lame ass piece of shit,” Jesse said and then continued with his praises. Nacho thinned his lips, still unsure for how to respond, eventually resorting to a half-smile and a quiet hum again. He then turned on the Javelin and tried focusing on getting out of the parking space, but he felt distracted.
What was he doing here? He hated people like this. Just another formerly middle-class piece of shit who wore baggy clothes and used forced slang. A loser. A poser. A junkie.
“Hey, thanks for picking me up.”
Nacho quickly turned back towards Jesse and blinked. The other man offered a big toothy grin, but the expression in his eyes didn’t match; gentle, dream-like, and wrapped up by a fold of budding wrinkles. Nacho swallowed his doubts.
“It’s cool.”
“No really- My next option was Mike and that would’ve been awkward as ass.”
A chuckle escaped Nacho’s lips. “He’s not so bad…but you’re right it would’ve been fuckin’ awkward.”
“What, you like Mike?’
“He’s one of the better guys I work with, yeah.”
“Aw, better than me, man?” Jesse said. Nacho swore he was batting his lashes.
With that, Nacho drove down Margo Street and out of the neighborhood. The two men were quiet at first, but Nacho found himself still curious about Jesse’s house, so he spoke up.
“Your place is nice…” Nacho said.
“What are you surprised?”
“Yeah, a little,” Nacho snorted. Jesse lightly punched him on the shoulder but chuckled along with him.
“Fuck you,” Jesse said. “It actually used to be my Aunt’s place. That’s why it’s so nice.”
“Huh, really?” Nacho raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, my Aunt Ginny, before- ” Jesse paused. “Well, before she died.”
“Ah,” Nacho didn’t know how to respond, so instead he put his foot in his mouth. “How did she die?”
“Cancer.”
Nacho squeezed the wheel of the car, old wounds lingering from memories he hadn’t thought about in years. He hated the idea that he just opened up those wounds for Jesse as well. He searched for something to say that wasn’t either completely idiotic or a hollow platitude.
“Were you close?”
“Yeah. My parents… were never super happy with me and-“ He gestured towards himself. “- my life, but Aunt Ginny was always super cool. I mean it’s not like she actually knew about my lab or anything. I’m sure she wouldn’t have liked it either, but she was just different, y’know? She listened to me. And I listened to her.” Jesse paused. “Yeah, I miss her a lot.”
Jesse leaned his head on the window. Nacho was now squeezing the wheel even tighter, cursing himself for saying anything at all.
“I’m, uh-“ Nacho cleared his throat. “…sorry I brought that up…” He managed to squeeze out.
Jesse lifted his head up and shrugged. “It’s cool, it was a while back at this point. It’s kind of nice thinking about her actually…”
Nacho wasn’t sure how to respond at this point, and he was afraid what he might say next, but this time Jesse spoke, changing the subject.
“Hey, so did I tell you what happened with the fly?”
“Oh, yeah. I mean no, you didn’t, but you had mentioned it before. A fly?”
“Yeah, so a fly got into the lab.”
“So..?”
“Exactly, that’s how I fucking responded. But of course, Mr. White goes completely insane about it and insists that we have to get rid of this stupid fucking fly or the entire lab will be contaminated.”
“Did he kill it?”
“Pfft, No, I killed it and he didn’t even fucking thank me. Stupid bitch,” Jesse put his head back and rolled his eyes almost to the back of his head.
“Your partner’s a piece of work,” Nacho said. He wanted to say ‘I don’t know why Gus likes him’ but decided it was best to keep that to himself.
“Don’t I know it,” Jesse muttered. His grumbling about Walter, soon turned into a snort, “Y’know he fell off one of the tanks trying to catch the thing?”
Nacho’s brow raised almost up to his hairline. He blinked.
“W-what?
“Yeah, uh, the fly was up on the ceiling on one of those lights, so he climbed up on the railings and tried hitting it with a broom,” Jesse said, but part way through he began chuckling in-between words. “He got up on one of the tanks, lost his balance, and slipped. I found him completely knocked out on his ass fuckin’ passed out, man.”
Nacho kept one hand on the steering wheel, while stifling a laugh with the other.
“He told me afterwards, and was actually angry at me for laughing,” Jesse continued, now cackling.
It was too much, picturing that uptight asshole falling off the tanks. Nacho finally gave up, laugh leaking out. The two men’s faces turned as red as the Javelin, with tears pricking their eyes.
Nacho couldn’t remember the last time he laughed this much.
He was so distracted, that he didn’t notice how close his car was getting to the other side of the rode. The woman in the other car shouted a string of curses as she swerved by.
“Fuck,” Nacho said under his breath, and adjusted his steering wheel.
“Oh shit, sorry man,” Jesse said, still between giggles.
“Naw, its’s my bad,” Nacho said. “I should be looking at the road.”
Nacho looked over at Jesse and smiled. And even though it only lasted a moment, Jesse smiled back.
As Nacho turned his attention back to road, he found himself in the heart of the city. Unfortunately, that meant traffic was building up. He decided to take a different route than usual, hoping it would clear up where he was going, but it was to no avail. Nacho let out a small huff as he found his car pressed up against a mini-van and Prius. Absentmindedly, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, and then looked over at Jesse who had been leaning his head against the window the entire time. However, the other man was now gazing out the window, directly at the large building across from them.
“See something interesting?”
Jesse didn’t respond.
“Hey, Jesse, you there?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s just…” He lazily pointed to the an art museum with a row of colorful banners stretched across. “They’re having a Georgia ‘O Keeffe exhibit…”
Nacho didn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned about Jesse’s 8 mile stare at an art exhibit of all things. He was surprised he even knew who Georgia ‘O Keeffe was. Then again, Jesse was asking for the definition of ‘Kafkaesque’ the other day, so anything was possible.
“You know her?”
“Yeah…”
“What, you got some secret art history obsession I should know about?”
“...she was one of Jane’s favorite artists…”
“Whose Jane?”
Jesse blinked rapidly, as though he was just waking up from bed. “What?”
“Who is Jane? You were just talking about someone named Jane.”
“Oh…uh it’s nothing man.”
“What, she an ex- girlfriend?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Nacho smirked.
“I said it’s nothing, Nacho.”
Nacho picked up on the shift in tone, and quickly dropped the conversation. Jesse turned back to the car window and stayed quiet for the duration of the trip. The silence was palpable; so loud that it filled up the car until Nacho felt trapped inside. He squeezed the steering wheel again.
It was strange being self- conscious over the man beside him. A man he would put a bullet through if ordered to. If he really wanted to, Nacho could rough Jesse up a bit for talking to him like that. Other men would. Instead, he just sat there in his awkwardness and insecurity, that loud silence ringing in his ears.
10 minutes later they arrived at the laundromat. Jesse looked like he wanted to practically bolt out of the car. Instead, once they were parked, he finally turned to face Nacho.
“Thanks.”
Nacho glanced over and nodded. “When do you want me to pick you up later?”
Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know, 4 or 5?”
“Okay.”
Jesse nodded back and got out of the car.
Nacho let out a heavy sigh, and faced down towards the wheel of the car, trying to avoid looking at Jesse who was now walking over to the lab, but still in eye view. He stole a quick glance and cursed himself when he saw Jesse peering back.
…
The remainder of the day was a dud.
Mr. White was on his ass more than usual, which Jesse suspected was due to his partner’s suspicions about him skimming the meth. He was going to have to start being more careful about how much he took. He ruminated throughout work if he should quit stealing it altogether.
But if Jesse was honest, that’s not what was really bothering him.
He couldn’t get this morning out of his head. It kept flashing through, even as he turned up his music as loud as he could. Nacho seeing his place, Aunt Ginny, the Georgia ‘O Keeffe exhibit, and then Jane, fucking Jane.
Jesse could still sometimes smell the puke.
But the image that was currently flashing through the most was a smile.
“Oh shit, sorry man.”
“Naw, its’s my bad. I should be looking at the road.”
Nacho looked over at Jesse. The corners of his mouth spread across his face, against pinched cheeks, traveling up to the crinkles of his eyes becoming slowly etched into him.
Nacho’s smile was beautiful. Infectious and genuine, albeit a bit bleak.
Jesse’s chest tightened. He could hear his heart beating through his ears. He hadn’t felt this way since-
Jesse squeezed his eyes shut. He stared at the mixture he was currently in charge of boiling. He told himself to keep working, but he couldn’t. He continued standing there frozen, thinking about how brainless he had acted this morning.
Asking Nacho to drive him. Snapping at Nacho, who could easily kill him. Letting Nacho’s smile fade away.
“Jesse!”
“JESSE!”
Jesse removed one of his headphones and turned around to find Mr. White yelling at him.
“Uh…yeah, Mr. White?” He said. Jesse had been so distracted, he almost felt groggy.
Mr. White yanked Jesse’s headphones out and stuffed them into his pocket.
“Yo! What the hell, man! That’s my property!” He swiped at the older man, but he just pushed him away.
“You haven’t been paying attention all day. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m at least confiscating this noise you call music.”
Usually, Jesse would’ve put up a fight, but today he didn’t have it in him.
“Whatever, dad.”
Mr. White just huffed, but finally let him be. Jesse rolled his eyes and got back to work.
…
At around 4PM Jesse stepped out of the lab, ready to have a cigarette while he waited for Nacho. He was not looking forward to meeting him, and even considered getting Mike to drive him, but decided to be a man and get it over with.
When he exited the laundromat, he was about to turn the corner to smoke in his usual spot, but he found that Nacho was already there. He leaned against the side of the car, arms crossed, and head turned. Jesse took a small breath and walked over.
“Hey,” Jesse said, strolling up to the car. “Didn’t know you were going to be here, like, 4PM on the dot.”
Nacho turned his head, his eyes slightly widened, but his expression quickly disappeared. Jesse often found the other man lost in thought. He wondered what he was always thinking about.
“You wanna go now, or do you got more shit to do?”
“Naw, I’m good.” Jesse said, tucking his packet of cigarettes into his back pocket.
Nacho nodded and got into the other side of the car. Jesse followed him with a sigh. At this point he regretted asking for a ride from Mike instead. Even Mr. White.
They said nothing while Nacho pulled out of the parking spot. Jesse picked at a loose piece of string on the side of the seat. He wondered if he was going to regret this, but he had to say something.
“Hey-“ Jesse started. “Uh… sorry about this morning. I was just being weird,” he rubbed the back of his head.
“It’s cool, I don’t care,” Nacho said, focused on exiting the driveway.
“Yeah it’s just, I asked you to drive me and everything so y’know… sorry,”
Nacho finally looked over at him for a split second and nodded.
For the next minute they were silent again, but Jesse couldn’t take it anymore. He hated this.
“Can I turn on some music?”
“Whatever, man.”
“Like, the shit I listen to?”
“As long as it’s not country.”
Jesse snorted, and watched as a tiny smile broke through Nacho’s wall of impassiveness. He flipped through a series of stations, until he arrived at DMX.
Jesse tried focusing on the music, but then Nacho cleared his throat.
“So, you like rap?” Nacho said.
“Uh…yeah.”
“I thought you liked rock maybe…
“Yeah I do, usually Death Metal.”
Nacho raised an eyebrow.
“Y’know like Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel,…?”
“Never heard of them.”
“Yo, I should make you a mixtape. Shit’s wild. You should see the cover art too. They fucking banned it from school, it’s so fucked up. I literally got detention for wearing one of their t-shirts,” Jesse said.
“Was it Walter who gave you detention again?” Nacho chuckled.
“Naw, it was Ms. Peterson, my algebra teacher. She was like this super uptight bitch from the fuckin’ 1800s. But, yeah Mr. White was pissed when he saw it too,” Jesse grinned. “What do you listen to?”
“I like rap as well, but I tend to stick to the 90s. Tupac and Biggie. None of that new shit.” Nacho cleared his throat. “And uh…Rock too, but like Jimi Hendrix? Pink Floyd, Rolling Stones- I guess I prefer hard rock or psychedelic.”
“So, stuff my dad likes?”
“Shut up, your white ass father doesn't like that shit.”
“No, you’re right. He likes Billy fuckin’ Joel,” Jesse laughed, and Nacho laughed along with him.
“You ever heard Jimi Hendrix play the national anthem?”
Jesse shook his head no.
“It’s fucking beautiful,” Nacho said. Jesse never heard him say something like that -- hell, he practically declared it -- but decided right there that he wanted to know more about the things Nacho loved.
“You gotta make me a mixtape too.”
“Yeah…” Nacho said. “Guess I do.”
As the awkwardness from this morning began to melt away, the two men finally sat content in each other’s silence. That was until Jesse saw that they were heading back toward the city. Traffic would’ve been terrible around this time, so he understood why Nacho took this route again. He still wished he hadn’t.
This time around, Jesse tried to look away from the museum, focusing on picking at a scab on his right hand. Of course, a red light stopped them from leaving the area completely, right next to the parking lot of the museum. He peered over at Nacho, to find the man staring back at him.
“You- do you want to go in there?”
“What? No- I don’t,” Jesse let out a heavy sigh. “I’m fine, okay?”
It looked like Nacho was finally turning his attention back on the road, when he pulled out of the lane, and into the museum’s parking lot, in one quick motion.
“What-“ Jesse whipped his head around. “What are you doing?”
Nacho pulled into the first space he could find and stopped the vehicle.
“You obviously want to go inside, so go inside.”
“Dude, It’s whatever. I was just bein’ a little bitch this morning.”
“Yeah, I know you were.”
Jesse glared at him.
“Look I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I don’t need to. But if you really want go in there, I’ll wait out here for 20 minutes or so and then drive you the rest of the way home. And then we’ll never talk about this again.”
Jesse slightly opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Or not,” Nacho pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry I asked, I just thought-“
“No… I’ll go in,” Jesse said quietly.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Just don’t be in there forever,” Nacho smirked.
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t,” Jesse said, the left corner of his lip quirking upwards. “You sure, you uh, don’t want to come in? I don’t want you to have to wait in your car.”
“I’m fine sitting out here. Do what you gotta do.”
Jesse almost turned to grab the door handle, but then let out a small sigh and turned back towards the other man again.
“Nacho?”
“Hm?”
“Could you come in with me?”
Nacho paused for a second, gazing at Jesse. Then he nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll come in with you, Jesse.”
…
After the two of them purchased their tickets, Jesse found himself wandering through the halls of the museum, large white walls surrounding him. It was almost blinding, how spotless and clean they were, which made the paintings stand out even more. Mesmerized by everything he saw, he jumped slightly at the sudden tap against his shoulder.
“Jesse?”
“Huh?”
“You going the right way?”
“Uhhhhh…” Jesse looked around, turning his head in all different directions.
Nacho sighed. “It’s a good thing I came in, you would’ve been in here forever,” Nacho then grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him along. “C’mon I think I know where it is. Unlike you, I actually listened to the directions that were given to us.”
Jesse would’ve spat back at him, but he was too distracted by Nacho’s hand on his wrist. He almost blushed, the feeling of Nacho’s fingers around his skin. They were strong, yet gently caressed around his bony wrist. He could feel a few callouses on them and wondered if they had formed from his upholstery days.
Nacho dragged him the opposite direction, eventually to a room with a sign reading “Georgia O’Keeffe: To See Takes Time”.
They walked inside to only find a few other people besides the guards. The museum was closing in an hour, so visitors were sparse at this point. Jesse was grateful.
He scanned the room, to find an explanation of the exhibit. Skimming through the text, Jesse found that the exhibit was about her work using watercolors and other materials instead of the oil paintings she was famous for.
Jesse traveled from one piece to another, scanning their contents, but feeling hollow each time.
Charcoal. 1917. Pastel. Graphite. 19 x 25”. 1943.
It was like he was searching for something but knew he would find nothing.
After looking through what felt like dozens of paintings, he was reminded that Nacho was in the room with him the whole time. When he turned to see if the other man had been following him, he realized that Nacho was gone. He traveled through the other sections of the exhibit, until he found Nacho sitting by himself on a bench. His gaze was on one of the watercolors.
It Was Yellow and Pink III, 1960, Oil on Canvas, 40 x 30”.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You like this one?”
“Yeah…I think I do.”
Jesse sat down beside Nacho to get a better view. It was abstract, but it looked like sickly veins on warm skin.
“Why?”
Nacho shrugged. “The colors… parts of it are so light and some parts are so intense. And how it kind of looks like a bird’s eye view of connecting roads. I… love the shape of them.”
Jesse’s chest tightened.
“… so you find anything?”
Jesse looked down at his feet and shook his head.
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” He chuckled.
“For Jane.”
“Jane…” Jesse said but his voice trailed off for a moment. “… Jane was my girlfriend.”
“…she’s your ex now?”
“She’s-“ Jesse started, but could feel his throat closing up. Tears filled to the brim and threatened to fall down his cheeks. He could smell the puke again, feel the stickiness of her clammy skin, and the stiffness of her body.
He couldn’t cry here. Not in front of Ignacio.
“What was she like?” Nacho suddenly interrupted.
Jesse took a moment to calm down. He swallowed.
“Um- yeah, she, she was great man,” Jesse said, slightly stuttering between words. “She was an artist. Did all these cool sketches and shit. She worked part time at a tattoo parlor.”
Nacho nodded along silently.
“She-she was so cool man, like-” Jesse huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know what she even saw in me.”
“I’m sure she saw a lot in you.”
Jesse’s face would’ve turned bright red if he hadn’t felt so numb. “I guess.”
“So, she liked this artist?”
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “She was one of her favorites. She talked about art a lot, knew all kinds of shit, all kinds of people I ain’t never even heard of. And she took me to this art museum. The Georgia O’ Keeffe one over in Santa Fe…and-and there was this exhibit there about these doors she painted. She painted the same one over and over again, but different times in her life. It was like about, well, I don’t know, Jane was really good at explaining it. She was so smart like that.”
“She sounds really… special.”
“Yeah, she is.”
That sat in silence, now just staring at the painting. Jesse let his eye travel down the different roads Nacho was previously describing. Nacho then finally took his eyes off the watercolor and towards the man he was sitting next to.
“Hey, y’know when you were talking about your Aunt Ginny this morning?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Uh- I just wanted you to know…” Nacho cleared his throat. “My mom died the same way.”
“What?” Jesse said. “Dude, I’m-I’m sorry- I”
“No, no, no It’s fine,” Nacho said. “It was a long time ago, I was a really little kid when it happened, It’s just-“
Nacho paused. “It’s just, I get it, Jesse. I understand.”
His deep brown eyes bored into Jesse’s. He slowly nodded in response.
Nacho smiled, more difficult to spot this time, but similar to the one from this morning. Jesse smiled back.
The two men turned their attention back to the painting and sat there until the museum closed.