Chapter Text
Jay is a lot of things, and when he’s being deathly honest with himself, stupid and cowardly are among the top of the list. Gullible. Impulsive. A bit of a pushover. Distractable, easily carried away, a slave to his emotions in the moment. A whole lot of things that mean he’s spent the last decade and a half chasing his own tail with Matt, and found himself in his mid-30s with no job, no relationship, nothing to show for himself, and only a single friend in the entire world. And every time he tries to do something about it, he gets suckered back into the same d*mn place.
So he’s taking the coward’s way out. He’s been planning it for a few days- or, more accurately, his sister’s been planning it for him. He’s got most of his clothes packed in a suitcase hidden upstairs, he’s got plane tickets to Vancouver, and he’s got his guitar, bass, and keyboard packed and ready to go. The drum set and upright piano will have to be left behind, at least for now- he can’t move those without tipping off Matt, and if Matt finds out he’s leaving, he’ll talk him out of it again. Matt can talk him into anything, it seems, and he can’t help but fall for it every time.
It’s not that he wants to abandon his best friend of 20 years. He’s tried building a life for himself without having to cut Matt out, but it always comes down to that in the end. He writes a letter to leave the band, and lets his emotions get the better of him until he decides not to change anything after all. He goes to a party to make other friends, and Matt shows up in disguise to get all his attention anyway. He gets a part-time job, and Matt goes out and finds another pianist, and Jay has to duel him to earn his spot back in his own d*mn band. It’s always the same- he can either have Matt and nothing else, or he can’t have Matt at all. And in the end, when it really comes down to it, he will always choose Matt.
But not anymore. He’s taking the choice out of his own hands- all he has to do is get out unseen, board the plane, and then it’s all on Stefanie. She’s his younger sister, but she’s the real adult here, with a job and a family and a life. She said she’ll let him stay with her, she’ll help him find a job, she’ll introduce him to other musicians she knows. Jay won’t be able to afford tickets back to Toronto on his own, so he can’t come back until she gives him the go-ahead and buys them for him, or he has a job long enough to pay for them himself. Jay has always needed someone else to do the thinking for him, and if it’s Stefanie, at least she has both feet on the ground. She’ll make him do normal, smart things like laundry instead of stealing from a museum and nearly getting arrested, or kind of sort of holding up a bank.
So tonight’s the night. He’ll sneak out while Matt’s sleeping, and then his flight leaves at 6 in the morning. Who knows when he’ll see Matt again? Who knows what Matt will say, how he’ll feel, when he wakes up in the morning and realizes his best friend in the entire world has skipped town without saying a word?
Jay ignores the rock sitting heavy in his stomach and shovels another spoonful of Frosted Flakes down his throat. He’s got a copy of NOW magazine open in front of him, but he hasn’t read a word of it. He thinks he might be making a terrible mistake. He thinks maybe thinking it’s a mistake means it’s the right move. He thinks he shouldn’t trust himself to think about it so much because it’s never worked for him before. Things cannot stay the way they are forever. He cannot turn 40 and still be following his friend around town committing various crimes for a show they’re never going to get (which is exactly what people think right before they do get something…)
He’s thinking himself in circles when Matt jumps out from behind him, screaming “BOO!”, and Jay spills half his cereal jumping clumsily to his feet in surprise. Matt doubles over laughing. “Fuck, you should have seen your face! Oh, that was really something, I'd love to take that face of yours and frame it, then we could both enjoy it, eh?”
Jay hates it. He’s going to miss it. This is exactly why he has to leave. “Matt! You made me spill my cereal, and it was the good kind- not even the cheap knock off kind!”
“Oh, whatever, Jay,” Matt dismisses. “What a terrible shame, you’ve lost a few pieces of- what would you call them? Pieces? Grains? Just flakes, I suppose, but that’s pretty specific to just these, isn’t it? What do you call one cereal?”
Jay blinks. He’s not actually sure. “Cere?” He guesses. “Since it’s not all?”
“Not all? What’s ‘all’ in this instance? Because even a whole box isn’t all the cereal. Actually, just- just imagine, you get all the cereal in the world, you make a- a sort of army, an army of just cereal, and there’s this terrible battle and there’s blood everywhere like the rave in Blade, but then a wave of just milk comes and everyone starts to soften, or dissolve, and it’s just screaming.” Matt lets out a long shriek, illustrating the point, and Jay winces- half at the sound and half at the image he’s now picturing very vividly.
“Gross, Matt, you’re gonna ruin my breakfast!” he whines.
Matt rolls his eyes. “Oh, by all means, continue your fine dining, your highness. Sorry to have interrupted such a feast of- of week-old cereal. Really incredible cuisine.”
Jay scowls and sits back down, pretending not to regret it when he immediately feels spilled milk soaking in through his jeans. He knows he’s failed when Matt gives him an incredulous look, looking between the puddle of milk on the table, the stool, and Jay. To his relief, Matt just shakes his head and drops it.
“Any big plans coming up?” Matt asks, with a kind of uninterested air he really only ever has when he is, in fact, very interested and trying not to show it.
Jay’s stomach drops, and he hopes it doesn’t show in his face. “No,” he says, and then stops while he’s ahead. Maybe he should change the subject back to the milk on his pants, after all.
“No?” Matt prods. “Nothing? Not planning on, say, travelling anywhere?”
“No,” Jay says again, but his throat is tight. “Hey, Matt, I think I wet my pants. Or, no, um- do you want to watch-”
“You’re telling me that you’re not planning to go anywhere,” Matt pushes. “No upcoming trips?”
Jay shakes his head. He can’t even work up the nerve to say ‘no’ out loud again. He’s never been a very good liar.
As if on cue, Matt sighs. “You’re a terrible liar, Bird. Embarrassing, really. No wonder none of our plans work- you couldn’t keep a secret to save your life.”
“I- I don’t-”
“I found the suitcase while I was going through some of the junk we have upstairs- I found our old copy of Ernest Goes to Jail, by the way, I thought it was gone for sure, and it’s not like that’s an easy movie to find. But I found the suitcase with basically all your stuff in it, and the guitars and keyboard next to it.”
One guitar and a bass, Jay doesn’t correct. His body is frozen like a deer in the headlights, brain scrambling to think of an excuse. “Oh, that old thing! Right, yeah, I’m so glad you brought that up, I forgot I was actually going to Hollywood tomorrow to- to pitch a movie, so we can make it for Nirvanna the Band, so the Rivoli will see it and then they’ll have to book us.”
For a moment, Matt looks intrigued, and Jay thinks he might have gotten away with it. But then Matt shakes his head and blows out a breath. “Focus,” he tells himself. “Okay, Jay, obviously you’re trying to leave the band again.”
Jay could swear he hears something crack behind his eyes as he watches his chances of building a different life slip away. “No, I-”
“You’re always doing this, you know that, Bird? It’s like every few weeks you decide you’re going to throw our whole life away and go be- be some random loser who lives in an office and sleeps in ties and watches news shows. Like you think you’re going to just become a business guy, and leave all this behind, and then it never works!” Matt exclaims, pacing and gesticulating wildly. “Every time, you come crawling back, and it goes back to normal, and I don’t know why you keep trying this shit! Can’t we just skip all the bullshit where you pretend you don’t like this and get back to the important stuff? What about the Rivoli?”
“I don’t care about the Rivoli!” Jay explodes, and to his own surprise it’s even a little true. “I don’t want to be stuck in the same place forever, doing the same stupid stuff and never getting anywhere until we either get arrested or die! I found a grey hair in my beard the other day, I can’t be prank calling magazines anymore. I’m 35 and I have nothing to show for it! I can’t tell you one single thing I’ve ever done that I’m actually proud of!”
Matt looks devastated. “That’s exactly why we need the show, to-”
“There is no show! There’s never a show! It’s just plan after stupid plan and we embarrass ourselves in front of strangers and break the law and nothing ever changes.”
“And you think running away will change that? You think that without me, suddenly you’ll just be- be, what, a successful musician? Earth to Jay- you can barely even take care of yourself! We both live off of my dad’s money, and the only reason you have anything to eat is because I do all the shopping to make sure we have groceries, and I make sure the electric bills get paid, because if it were up to you, you’d just play video games or piano until the lights shut off and you starved. You need me, Jay, you’ve learned this a million times and you still keep forgetting! You can’t make other friends, you don’t know how to talk to anyone or do anything, you always need me to do it for you!”
Jay’s face is burning hot, and he can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears. The tempo is all wrong. “It doesn’t have to be you,” he says stupidly.
“What?” Matt asks incredulously. “Who else is going to do all this for you? Who’s going to remember to buy extra Kit-Kats because they’re your favorite bar but you always drop one of the sticks, and do it with a smile on their face? Who’s going to give you something to work towards, who’s going to make your plans for you and remind you what they are when you forget and forgive you when you inevitably fuck them up?”
Jay is many things, and stupid and cowardly are high up there, but so is proud. He can feel his ego being blown to bits, and he hates it. “I’m going to learn how to do all that stupid stuff and then I can live by myself and I won’t need anybody! And Stefanie said I can stay with her until I do and I’m going to get a job and I’m going to be normal and cool, because all this- this isn’t cool. It isn’t normal! And I can’t keep letting you do all the thinking because you aren’t cool or normal either.”
Matt gapes at him, heaving silently, looking completely heartbroken. Jay almost wants to take it all back. He doesn’t. “Stefanie?” Matt asks in a small voice.
“Yeah,” Jay shoots back harshly, before deciding that level of aggression feels out of place now that Matt looks so, so sad. He lowers his voice to something softer. “Yeah. She got me tickets to Vancouver. I’m leaving tonight. And maybe some day I’ll come back, but- I have to go, Matt. I can’t keep doing this.”
Matt laughs unconvincingly, his voice hitching halfway through. “And you’re going to be, what, their babysitter? Stay home with the kid all day while they go out and work?”
“Maybe for a little until I get my own job, I don’t know,” Jay says. Stefanie hadn’t brought it up. It hadn’t even occurred to him, really.
“Any kid you took care of would have to call Children’s Aid,” Matt jokes weakly. His eyes are darting around Jay’s face, and Jay can’t take the scrutiny. He looks away.
“Goodbye, Matt.” Jay turns to go. He has to grab his suitcase and leave before he changes his mind again.
“Jay, wait,” Matt calls behind him, but Jay doesn’t stop as he climbs the stairs. “Bird. Birdie, wait, you can’t just- you’re not actually leaving- Jay!”
The suitcase is half open a few feet from the top of the stairs. Jay pulls the zipper shut, slings the guitar case and keyboard over his back- he doesn’t see the bass and he’s not going to take the time to look for it- and starts dragging the suitcase down the stairs. His vision is blurring, and he blinks away the wetness in his eyes.
“Birdie. Come on, Bird, you’re not serious, you don’t want to- Jay, stop! At least look at me! You can’t just leave like this. You can’t- do not walk out that door.”
Jay doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even turn to look at Matt. This isn’t how he wanted this to go.
“Stop. Stop, stop- Bird, stop!”
A bright pain in the back of his skull, then nothing.
---------------------
He’s leaving. He’s actually, genuinely leaving- for real this time, to the other side of the fucking country, where he can’t just change his mind and come back tomorrow. He’s planned this, he’s been planning this, he’s going to leave and never come back.
Matt can barely hear himself talking over the blood thundering in his ears, he’s telling Bird to stop but it’s not working, he’s not listening, he’s leaving. He’s coming down the stairs and there’s his suitcase, thunking on every step on its way down, doesn’t the idiot know he can just lift it, and what’s Matt supposed to do about it?
He has to stop it. He has to stop it. He barely registers grabbing the first thing within reach, only sees Jay reaching the bottom of the stairs, still moving forward, moving away, and Matt’s getting closer but Jay’s still moving away, and he won’t stop, and Matt-
Matt makes him stop.
The ceramic bowl makes a deeper sound against Jay’s head than Matt would have expected, and it doesn’t break like in the movies. Jay goes to his knees, then drops forward until his forehead hits the door and he sags against it, neck tilted back in a way that would probably hurt if he was awake, haha, because he doesn’t seem to be, the way he’s slowly sliding down and his head is bleeding and he doesn’t try to move or get up or say anything, and Jay’s not vox but he’s not usually silent, haha, Silent Jay- or, no, Jay and Silent Bob, Matt’s never actually seen those movies, but he remembers meeting Kevin Smith at Sundance, do you remember Sundance? When Jay was so mad at him about the sneaking, even though that was the only smart thing that happened?
Jay was so mad. He’s going to be so mad. He’s going to be-
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Jay’s knocked out cold on the floor and Matt’s standing over his body like a serial killer with a bloody cereal bowl- a cereal killer, get it? Only Jay’s not dead, he’s just knocked out, he’s just- Matt drops the bowl and scrambles to his knees, fumbling to check for a pulse, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when he turns Jay’s head and hears something like a groan.
Okay. Okay, he’s fine, this is all fine. It’s going to be fine. Matt just has to- he has to find a way to make it all go back to normal, to make Jay calm down and remember how much he actually loves his life. Only he’s already got tickets to a flight out of here and all this probably isn't going to make him want to change his mind, eh? Probably convince him even more, make him think Oh, I was right, Matt's so crazy and weird, not normal or cool at all, he'd really said that, normal and cool, like they were still stuck in high school trying to win prom king, and speaking of prom and crazy people, remember Carrie? With the bucket of blood all over her? Jay's bleeding but it's not nearly that bad- just a flesh wound, haha- and it'll probably stop soon anyway.
Matt just needs to figure out how to make Jay stay, at least long enough to cool off and think rationally. Long enough for Matt to think of a plan to convince him, or maybe to finally get the show at the Rivoli, surely that would be enough to get him to stay! Matt just needs to buy himself some time. A way to keep Jay from running as soon as he wakes up, because he’s gonna be pissed.
Rope. There’s that old noose somewhere in the closet, from back when the band broke up and Matt had to show Jay what he’d be missing- tale as old as time- and wouldn’t it be so poetic to use it for the same thing again? To bring Jay back, to keep him around? Matt stands abruptly, ignoring the light thump of Jay falling the rest of the way down- oops- and hurries up the stairs. The closet is full of old junk, but the noose is hanging from the ceiling, which makes it nice and easy to find.
Untying it is harder than he expected, but the real pain in the ass is cutting the rope into 4 pieces- even the butcher knife in the kitchen takes several tries and leaves it with fucked up, frayed edges. Good thing Matt doesn’t give a shit about that part; even an ugly rope will hold.
He dumps the pieces of rope by the bunk bed and moves back to where Jay’s still lying face-down in front of the door. Matt pulls off the instrument cases, picks him up by the armpits- fuck, he’s heavy, couldn’t make it easy on him, huh?- and drags him slowly across the room. This would be so much easier if Jay would just help him out. Instead he just makes a low moaning sound that Matt tries not to think too hard about.
He takes a break to catch his breath when they finally reach the beds before doing the final push and actually lifting Jay onto the lower bunk. God, that was hard. Maybe he should work out more often- some sort of Exercise Plan so he and Jay get super ripped, and everyone at the Rivoli will be so horny for their huge muscles that they HAVE to book them; a longer con than their usual but worth a shot. Except Matt can’t imagine Jay shredded, really, isn’t sure he’d even want to. He likes his b-friend’s soft middle, just right for tackling.
Anyway, time to tie him up. He’s starting to move around a little, and Matt’s not sure how long he has left before he wakes up. He has to look up the right knot for this, because the bunny ears shoe-tying thing isn’t going to cut it. When he finds a good one, he ties Jay’s hands straight to the bedposts with the shorter pieces of rope- they turned out a little uneven- and uses the longer ones to loop around his ankles and then the bed, so he’s got a little wiggle room to move his legs around. The hands are the dangerous part, anyway, they’re the ones that can untie knots, unless Jay learns to do it with his feet like one of those painters with no arms, but Jay’s never been that good on his feet. He’s all hands, long and delicate fingers made for the piano, and his legs have always been more of an afterthought.
Jay’s still out of it. His eyes are half-open, fluttering occasionally, and it really makes his eyelashes stand out. His head moves a bit to the side, mouth falling slightly open and letting a grunt escape. He’s starting to wake up- it’s been less than 10 minutes, and Matt doesn’t feel like he’s had any time to prepare. But the clock is ticking down, and the curtains are rising.
Show time.