Yeah. Yeah, okay. [Reluctantly, he heads inside with Matt. They tell them to be quick but don't keep them from heading in.
Nate heads for his room, leaving the door open and immediately feeling his chest tighten. The piece he was working on is entirely ruined, soaked in the spot on the floor he had left it, propped against the wall to dry.]
Fuck... [He mutters before going to grab a back and stuff some clothes into it. His motions are more intense, angry, upset. He was proud of that piece.]
[ Matt's room is... right by Nate's. Hmm, okay maybe that explains a lot about the loud noise. There's not too much he's bothered about, grabbing a couple of tshirts and the pile of sheet music up into a folder. His cheap keyboard thankfully safe in its padded case, which he slings over his shoulder before heading back to the corridor and mooching on into Nate's open door.
It's then he sees the damaged painting, but it isn't the damage he sees, it's straight past that. ]
Fuck did you do that? [ Hi he's here, he wasn't invited. ]
No but the shit you did with colour here is special, man. Really, Nate. [ What, he's no artist, he doesn't know shit but he knows he likes it, and so when he's shown more he moves over with clear interest, mouth a little slackjawed as he sees some of his work. ]
Jesus you know your shit. I mean that's like some museum sort of level, right? [ It's probably not, but its fair to say Matt is impressed. ]
So this is the stuff you want to do then? Like for a job?
[He gets more and more uncomfortable as this goes on. He's still really new at anything art related at this level. And he's nowhere near ready to be a professional.]
Yeah, that's the idea. Probably won't work out but I've got to try.
[He shrugs, finally finding a bag for his art supplies and packing them away.]
Yeah, think so. [He's...not grabbing that water damaged painting. He closes the closet to try to protect the rest of them. Tugging his bag over his shoulder, he gives Matt a tight sort of smile.]
[ He stops then, utterly fucking shocked, like someone has just given him a cheque for a million quid or something. ]
Are you serious? You're not fucking with me? I can have it? Nate, fuck man, that's. Thanks. I'll look after it. Sell it someday for thousands, just you see.
Oh you've got to be shitting me. [ He huffs as they walk in, and throws his bag down on the other bed. ]This is ridiculous.
[ His keyboard is taken gently off his shoulder and put on the desk. It doesn't fit. He unzips it from the case and pulls it out. Suck it Nate, you're going to have to listen to music. ]
I work late, don't pull a shit fit when I walk in and wake you up.
No. I'm doing a music degree. But I've played a bit down the pub at home every now and then. Just let me know when you're out and I'll try not to practise when you're around.
Don't have to do that. I mean maybe not if I'm asleep, but anything else is fine. No sense in either of us getting fucked over too hard by all of this mess.
Especially then, got it. [He's not going to comment on that any further. Starting a fight on their first night in isn't Nathan's idea of a good time but wow it's hard not to draw some heavy conclusions there.]
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Come on, they've got to let us in to pack a bag, even if the place is fucked.
[ And they try and do(?) get let in?? ]
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Nate heads for his room, leaving the door open and immediately feeling his chest tighten. The piece he was working on is entirely ruined, soaked in the spot on the floor he had left it, propped against the wall to dry.]
Fuck... [He mutters before going to grab a back and stuff some clothes into it. His motions are more intense, angry, upset. He was proud of that piece.]
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It's then he sees the damaged painting, but it isn't the damage he sees, it's straight past that. ]
Fuck did you do that? [ Hi he's here, he wasn't invited. ]
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What? What are you-? What, that? Yeah. Fucking disaster that it is now.
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You painted this? [ He feels the need to ask again because it's hard to believe. ] Nate you're fucking talented this thing is ace.
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Thanks. It was just something I wanted to try out. That style isn't really my norm. I'm more-- Here.
[He opens his closet and it's just...full of small canvases of various paintings. Whoops.]
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Jesus you know your shit. I mean that's like some museum sort of level, right? [ It's probably not, but its fair to say Matt is impressed. ]
So this is the stuff you want to do then? Like for a job?
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Yeah, that's the idea. Probably won't work out but I've got to try.
[He shrugs, finally finding a bag for his art supplies and packing them away.]
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You got everything?
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Guess we should go see where they're sticking us.
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Like fuck you are. [ And he'll proceed to go over and grab it for himself because hell no you aren't. ]
Didn't your ma ever tell you not to be wasteful? You're keeping it.
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Are you serious? You're not fucking with me? I can have it? Nate, fuck man, that's. Thanks. I'll look after it. Sell it someday for thousands, just you see.
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I'm not faking, you prick. And I know it is. I don't want to live with you as much as you don't want to live with me, so we're cool, okay?
[ HUFF. RUDE NATHAN. LETS GO ]
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We have to have the wrong room.
[Except he knows they don't. So he reluctantly goes to claim the bed closest to the window. Natural light is his thing okay.]
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[ His keyboard is taken gently off his shoulder and put on the desk. It doesn't fit. He unzips it from the case and pulls it out. Suck it Nate, you're going to have to listen to music. ]
I work late, don't pull a shit fit when I walk in and wake you up.
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[He finally notices the keyboard.]
You in a band or something?
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And don't go bringing anyone back here either. Especially if it's blokes. You are into blokes, right?
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So what's your story then, Nate? What brought you here?
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[He doesn't know if he wants to ask about Matt's life, especially if he's a homophobic dick.]
What about you? [sigh]
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