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“I’d have to double check the booking book, but there should be an opening at the end of the month. What’s your band’s name?” The bartender smiles innocently at them, like she doesn’t know what she’s offering them.
Jay waits for Matt to announce their name like a royal decree, like it’s their divine mandate from heaven to play here. He was the one who told Jay he’d do all the talking, after all. But instead, Matt’s just standing there staring at the bartender. What the hell?
“We’re called Nirvana the Band.” Jay says from his step behind Matt, when it’s clear that he’s not going answer for whatever reason. Intimidation tactic? Good cop, bad cop? Jay smiles back at the bartender. She’s pretty cute. Blonde. Maybe he could try taking her home later, you know, just to seal the deal.
“I’m Jay, this is Matt,” he introduces, not sure Matt’s really selling his bad cop character. He’s probably going to blow this with how weird he’s being. “We’re a two man act, doing a piano/spoken word improvisational sort of thing. It’s pretty cool. You said the end of the month? We’ll have to see if we can fit that in.” Yeah, play hard to get. That’ll make them seem cool and popular. Bookable.
The bartender says, “Yeah, end of the month. I think that last Friday is open—”
“Uh…” Matt starts, staring at the bar. His chest is heaving. “Jay—?” He stumbles backward, an arm reached out behind him, groping around blindly until it hits Jay in the chest. He collides with Jay and stumbles.
Something is wrong.
“Matt?” Jay catches him. Matt’s eyes are wide and flying all over. Something is wrong and they have to get out of here. To the bartender, he says, “Uh… we’ll be in touch!” and then he’s dragging Matt out the door.
“Dude, what the f█ck was that?” Jay asks as he sets Matt down on the curb next to the patio. He looks a little bit like he’s going to throw up. “Are you good?”
Matt just stares at his hands and shakes. “She… she just…”
“Matt, look at me man. Hello?”
“End of the month…”
Jay begins to pace without really meaning to. “Okay, uh. Do I, like— sh█t— need to call someone for you?”
“She said… end of the month…” Matt’s breathing even faster now. “We just walked in and asked…” His eyes dart around the pavement in front of him, hands moving back and forth on his exposed knees. “Just walked in and asked… no big plan… we just… Jay—” and then his eyes squeeze shut and his hands fly up to grip his hat and he’s tilting back against the fence and he looks like he’s about to die.
“F█ck!” Jay darts over to Matt and drops down to his knees. His hands hover for a horrible, clueless second, before landing on Matt’s shoulders. “Matt? Matt! Can you hear me? What’s happening, man? Come on dude, you’re really freaking me out.” This has never happened before. Matt may actually be dying? Jay has no idea what to do.
Matt lets out an explosive, distressed sound, like all the air is being squeezed from his lungs. “Jay—”
“Holy f█ck,” Jay is trying to think of where the nearest hospital is. “Matt? F█ck! Matt? I’m right here, dude. Are you— what— breathe, dude, holy f█ck. Sh█t.” He whips his head around, as if he’d be able to find anything to help, but all he sees instead is Lyndon and his camera. He honestly forgot they were being filmed. “Dude, f█cking— help me!” he screams, but Lyndon just takes a step backwards and zooms in. Fucking documentarians. Jay’s gonna kick his ass after this. Dimly, he’s aware that Jared is across the street somewhere filming a second angle. He hopes the footage gets corrupted.
His hands are still on Matt’s shoulders, and he can feel him shaking underneath his hold. Jay almost feels dizzy, but they can’t both have a breakdown on the street, so he really tries to hold it together. “Uh, hey, Matt? Sh█t, okay, uh... can— can you name all of De Palma’s movies?” he asks, cringing at his own words as they leave his mouth. He’s taking a stab in the dark, trying to distract Matt from whatever is happening.
“Wh—”
Well, he’s stuck here now. He doubles down, squeezing Matt’s shoulders and hoping it helps. “Yeah, come on, I’ll start. Okay, Mission: Impossible. Scarface. Uh… Christine?”
“Carpenter,” Matt struggles out, face screwed up.
“What?”
“You…” Matt takes almost a full breath. Jay wants to get up and cheer. “That’s John Carpenter.”
“Really?” Jay bites down on a smile. “What am I thinking of?”
Matt peeks an eye open. There’s a glint in there like he’s trying to decide if Jay’s being obtuse on purpose or not. “Carrie, Bird.” His hands release their death grip on his hat. Jay feels like crying.
“Oh, right. Yeah. Of course. What else?”
Matt struggles through another couple full breaths, hands back to rubbing up and down his knees. Jay’s still holding him by the shoulders. He pictures letting go and Matt starting to freak again, like a pot bubbling over with no one to push the lid down. “Blow Out… Phantom of the…” he wheezes, “Paradise...”
“Yeah, great!” Jay realizes he’d started running his hands up and down Matt’s arms at some point to go along with Matt’s own hands on his knees. “So good, MJ. Okay, The Untouchables.”
“Carlito’s Way… Uh, Body Double…”
“Hi, Mom!?”
Matt jolts, eyes opening to snap up to meet Jay’s. He blinks at him for a second, mouth slightly parted, before breaking out into a shaky grin. “De Niro’s debut! Nice, Bird! Didn’t know you knew that one.”
Jay beams. Matt appears to have stabilized, so he lets go and sits back on the pavement across from him. He feels lightheaded. “Do I— f█ck dude. Do we need to take you to the hospital?”
Matt rests his head against the fence, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. “No,” he says. He sits there and catches his breath for a few moments before mumbling, “Sorry.” The word is small but full of grief.
“What?” Jay blinks, inches forward, stops himself from grabbing him again. “I’m just—” his eyes drift over to the street as he admits, “—glad you’re okay, man.”
Matt gazes back down at his hands. He looks hollowed out. “It was just… she just… we just walked right in and asked. And they gave us a show. We didn’t have a big plan… a grand scheme… we just. Asked for it.” He puts his head in his hands and takes a big sigh. Jay’s afraid Matt’s about to burst into tears right there on the street. “That can’t be it, man! It can’t be! This was a terrible plan! I’m a terrible front man, Bird, I—”
“Whoa, hey, Matt—” and Jay’s scrambling back over to Matt’s side, sitting next to him so their shoulders touch. “You’re not a terrible front man, alright? I couldn’t come up with half the plans you think of.” He clears his throat to cover the sound of Matt crying. “No— Matt— come on, man, hey. We— we don’t even have the show yet! She just said there might be an opening! And if we do get the show it’ll be because you came up with this incredible plan to march right in there! Okay?” Jay puts his arm around Matt and jostles him a little to emphasize his point.
“Yeah…” Matt blubbers, face hidden in his hands, “okay…”
The door to the Rivoli opens and the bartender steps out to approach them. “Hi again, guys. I just wanted to let you know that I checked with the booking book and unfortunately we are full booked this month. I’m sorry.”
“You’re—” Matt sniffs, looking up at her, “fully booked?”
“Yeah, unfortunately,” she gives a consoling smile. “But we have a couple slots open next month, if you wanted to come back and try then?”
Jay feels Matt’s body tense against his and looks over to see his eyes focused, darting around a whiteboard only he can see. “So we have a month to think of a new plan, then…” he mutters. Then, he looks up at Jay, and it’s like the clouds have parted. “We have a month to think of a new plan! This is gonna be the one, I can feel it!” He’s reanimated, hopping to his feet. “Jay! Come on! We have to start planning!” He starts to haul Jay up, but then just takes off running down the street when Jay isn’t fast enough.
“Thanks,” he nods to the bartender, who’s watching Matt run with a look of amusement and confusion. “We’ll be in touch,” he says, and this time he means it.
He jogs after Matt, catching up at the corner.
“Dude,” Matt says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I can’t believe you named Mission: Impossible before fucking Scarface.” He ruffles Jay’s hair, and Jay attempts to back away with a sound halfway between a laugh and a yelp. “Fucking Scarface! What is wrong with you?!”
“Matt, cut it out!”
The light changes. They start crossing the street, Matt barreling ahead, only avoiding the other pedestrians because they dodge out of the way first. “We didn’t even say Dressed to Kill! Ooh, or Snake Eyes!”
“I get it!” Jay jogs after him once more.
“Y’know, you might’ve been onto something with Mission: Impossible, actually. We repel down INTO the Rivoli!”
“Matt!” Jay just follows him, grinning, up the street toward the setting sun.
“We give the bartender DIARRHEA!”
“Matt, no— she was nice—”
“And when she gets up to leave, THAT’S when you lower me down!”
“Well— wait, why do I have to lower you down?” Maybe they’ll shoot off fireworks later tonight.
Matt just laughs, and the sound floats up to join the rest of the city. “Because— ugh, will you just get inside? I have so many good ideas! I don’t wanna lose ‘em!”