James Platt

     “I’m down for that, I don’t really give a shit if the others come or not. I’m fine with it if we’re the only ones that end up going, I just want to lay out under the sun and get a tan before the fall sets in,” Rhys stated simply, scratching at the back of his neck, his shoulder lifting languidly. As much of a people person as he was sometimes, he also didn’t care for them sometimes. He wondered if that was the creative side of him, or the part of him that had experienced so much hatred from other individuals throughout his life. He supposed it was probably a mix of both, yet he couldn’t live without others in his life. 

     “Hey, according to him, it means he gets all the bragging rights and that he is better in every single way,” he said with a laugh, rolling his eyes at the memory of his brother’s antics. He couldn’t really complain much though, he found them amusing, even when they were directed at him. Tristan would always be there for him when it counted, and that was ultimately what mattered most. “I’m sure it would be a nightmare for both your sister and I should that actually happen.”

     Snapping his gum, Rhys shook his head, furrowing his brows at James’ question, as he pulled out a few of his leather jackets from the pile on his bed to hang up. “No, shit, I’m not a slob,” he said with a laugh, putting a hanger in one of the coats and placing it in the closet. “What I mean is, I tend to forget to fucking eat or drink constantly, smoke a lot, forget where I put shit, that kind of thing. Tristan’s always really on top of that. He’s always been good about making sure I have coffee or tea first thing, I remember my keys and my phone, and then that I’m taken care of. Suppose I’m lucky to have him in that way. I’m just shit at self care, but I’ve been trying.” He had no problem admitting his downfalls, he knew where he lacked and where he needed to be better, but it was always a struggle for him to improve when on some level he just didn’t care. 

     “Ja, tell me about it. I try and play and I get frustrated so fast when it comes to the guitar. Drives me batty. Course, I’m kind of a giver upper,” Rhys muttered, snickering a little at himself. “If it doesn’t go right the first few times, I want nothing to do with it, which is shit when it comes to learning new things. But we’ll definitely have to play together sometime. I’d like to see what you can do.” 

     It felt good to talk to someone who had so much in common with him, someone that he didn’t have to feel like he was trying too hard. There was an easy cadence in their conversation that made him feel comfortable with the other. As rare as it was for him to make good friends, he saw potential in James, and in some ways that worried him.

     “I can’t sit still when it comes to my hair,” Rhys commented, beginning to line up his shoes in the bottom of the closet. “I just can’t stand looking the same all the time. I don’t know why, I crave the change… but yeah, I took both actually. Surprise, surprise, I hate school but I love to learn about this shit.” Moving to grab another one of his suitcases from the hall, he dragged it into his room, considering James’ dilemma. “I don’t know what I want to do either, actually, I guess I just don’t care. I don’t give a shit what people think of me. Hell, half the people I met when I was in my teens thought I was a girl,” he said with a shrug, opening his suitcase. “Sometimes shit isn’t worth selling your own soul for. You just have to be you. Anyway, I’d be game for designing something for you. What were you thinking?”

     “A tan? Really? Alright,” James replied, shrugging. “Let’s go this week, then.” With a day trip with a new housemate already in works, it was shaping up to be a decent semester. He hoped they continued to get along like this. “But hey, feel free to invite your brother. Maybe he and I can conspire against our younger siblings together.”

     A smirk tugged on James’s lips as he continued to organize his books. His instruments and posters would come next. Clothes were unimportant; simply throwing them into the dresser would suffice. Organization with such things never mattered much to him as long as he could grab would he needed and run. 

      “So you smoke?” he called. “What do you smoke?” James tilted his head, observing his bookshelf. He’d need to get some kind of decorations to help make it look better, to put his own flair on the appearance so it wasn’t simply books after books lined up. “Guess we all need some kind of care taker now and again. But hey, maybe it’ll be good for you, living without him. You going to expect me to pick up your slack?” James teased, releasing a laugh. In truth, he probably would not mind. It was second nature to him to help people through daily tasks, but also in deeper, emotional ways. Maybe that was why he’d chosen to major in psychology. 

     “How good are you with piano?” James asked curiously. “I play the dueling piano gigs a lot down at The Cave and we’re looking for someone else. Pay’s pretty good, plus you get tips and it’s a blast.” He pushed himself up, satisfied with his bookshelf, and moved over to his box of posters and photographs, deciding to spruce the place up a bit. He began taping them up over his bed.

       James listened to the other above the music, turning it down just a little to better hear him from the adjacent room. Rhys was himself. Maybe it was a mask- but James had always been a little skeptical of people who claimed to know who they were. It wasn’t easy to identify yourself, to be self-assured, especially in college, but he seemed genuine. 

       “That’s a good attitude, I think,” James said. “I mean, going into the arts or design or music-- those fields seem more open to such things. I just-- chose Psychology because it is safer, to a degree. But unfortunately, they do care about tattoos and that kinda shit. And I wouldn’t want to risk not landing a decent job because of a few tattoos. Maybe someday, though. If I open a practice or make it big with my music.” He pinned a poster up above his desk and realized he did not have as many as he wanted to cover the walls and made a note to get more of those, too. A run to a music store would be good; they tended to have quirky decor items and posters. “Anyway, I’m thinking of something meaningful. I think that’s stereotypical, yeah. Most people say that, right? I don’t necessarily think all tattoos need to be meaningful in some grand way, but-- I don’t know. I’d like something that is personal to me. Something unique. Nothing worse than everyone and their mother’s sporting the same infinity symbol or anchor tattoo, right? So-- I don’t know, yet. But something big. Guess that’s not really helpful.”

       At last, James grabbed his guitar and moved to the main room, which was quite open for all the artists that would live in this building this year and the years to come. It gave plenty of space to draw and paint, to play music and get creative. He positioned a comfortable folding chair in the corner with a music stand and his guitar, figuring it could be used as a practice area. He hoped no one would mind. 

     “That’ll be fun to organize, considering how not a single soul made it here on time,” Rhys said with a laugh, arching a brow at James, knowing that they could manage it if they tried but deciding to give him a hard time for the hell of it. He loved the beach, if he was honest. It was the one place he actually enjoyed going during the summer with his brother, if he had the funds for the trip. There were always positive memories any time he thought of it, the hot summer sun beating down, his brother bringing him drinks, the two of them having water fights in the ocean. Admittedly, he was already starting to plan the trip in his mind. “Well, I don’t usually associate school with the beach or swimming, so who knows. But thanks, I appreciate that.”

     Grinning, he rolled his eyes as James talked about his sister and the way that he harassed her, knowing all too well what it was like to have a big brother. “Ohhhh, so you’re that type,” he joked, letting out a laugh as he scratched at the back of his ear. “I’m the younger twin. My brother reminds me of that… oh, ever three minutes, approximately. You know, it would be a travesty if I forgot,” he said, snickering to himself as he remembered just how many times his brother brought up that fact. “You’d probably get on with him well. You can trade secrets on how to make your younger siblings’ lives torture.” 

     Nodding his head, he understood the point that James was making, even though he didn’t entirely feel the same about his sibling. He could see why it would be better to have distance and to allow one another space to breathe, but sometimes he felt strange when he didn’t have his twin around, as though he was always looking for him, even when he knew he wasn’t there. “I get that, but I think I’m more likely to go insane without Tristan, as mad as that sounds. I’m really shit at taking care of myself and he’s really good at making sure I do.”

     Moving over towards his suitcases, he picked up the first two bags that sat sagging on top of his luggage. “I sing, mostly. I’m not fantastic with instruments, but I can do some piano and a little guitar. Though less guitar than I would like. It confuses the shit out of me,” Rhys said with a laugh, shrugging his shoulder to write it off. “What about you?” He asked, as he made his way towards the room adjacent to the one James’ had picked. “I’m used to being hot,” Rhys commented, shooting a wink over his shoulder as he smirked. “And you would be surprised just how much of a difference those chain boots make over the strappy ones. Completely different outfit.” Tossing down his bags, he made his way back out, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

     Narrowing his eyes, he stood there, his hands on his hips as he studied the other for a moment. A trickle of familiarity wormed it’s way into his brain, making itself at home as he took in a long breath, trying to throw his memory back to old classes. “We might have, you look a little familiar too,” Rhys commented, pursing his lips before waving his hand in front of him, shifting to pick up another bag. “I had black hair that was longer my first couple of years. Less piercings. Most people don’t even recognize me half the time, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

     Rolling a few more of his suitcases into the room he chose, he snapped the gum between his teeth, turning towards James’ room, looking at him framed by both their doorways. “You know, a little of this, a little of that. Basically what they assign so I can get through the program. My own art is kind of like graphic art. I like doing things digitally, though I’m super into tattoo designs. As if that weren’t somewhat obviously,” he replied with a snicker, gesturing to his arm with the most ink. 

     Listening to the music, he smiled to himself, shrugging his shoulder as he began to move to the beat as well. Opening one of his suitcases, the dumped his clothes on the bed, looking amused as it tumbled halfheartedly off the bed. 

     “Well, their loss. Planning any kind’ve anything with a group is difficult,” James said. “So what we do is pick a date and time and tell everyone. If they miss it, their fault. We can still have fun.” He wondered what their housemates would be like. It would undoubtedly be interesting to throw a bunch of artsy college kids together in one house. Hopefully they all got along and became decent friends. James got along with all types, but there were some people whose company he preferred. 

     “Ha. I mean-- we get along! I just like to bug her. Give her hell over everything. As big brother’s should. So I guess your twin has the right idea. Though, I don’t know how much a few minutes is worth in bragging rights,” James laughed. “’Least I got a few years on Eleanor. But hey. I am all for teaming up with him.” 

      James’s brows furrowed, his head tilting as he studied the way Rhys moved. He was an interesting person. Fluid and sure of himself, his style distinct, he was confident in many ways. They were already getting on quite well, James noted. He was easy to talk to. There were no lags in the conversation and he wasn’t left feeling like he had to keep it up while the other didn’t hold up his own side of the conversation. 

     “Are you?” James asked. “So you gonna need me to kick your ass to clean your room is what you’re saying?” He gave the other a teasing smirk. 

      “Do you?” James asked, calling out to the other from his bedroom as he decided how to organize his books. He never knew whether to do them alphabetically or by size or color or genre. “Great. That’s awesome. We’ll have to do some music together. I sing, too. Piano, guitar, drums, bass. I can help you with guitar. It’s not bad once you get the hang’ve it. It’s all about finding a comfortable position for your fingers ‘cause some of those stretches are rough.”

      James moved fluidly to the music as he knelt in front of the shelves, enjoying the rhythm, his head bobbing while he sang along softly and put his textbooks on the bottom shelf since it was the widest, lining them up. “You dying your hair all the time?” he asked. “That explains it. I think we had some class together sophomore year. Maybe two classes. Did you take Social Psych or Abnormal?” 

Stella fist bumped him back and quirked her head to the side for his explanation. She understood what he was saying, and it wasn’t that she didn’t agree, but it was that she was just not as invested into the series as some. She shrugged her shoulders at him, “Guess I just say that because enough people already say I’m intimidating, or evil, or whatever. Don’t need some book about a fictional wizard school saying the same about me.” Stella laughed at her own comment. “But don’t worry,” she looked up at him with a smirk, “I’ve owned the fact that I’m doomed to be evil by this point in my life,” she said sarcastically.

“We all end up where we’re supposed to,” Stella softly smiled at the man. “So if you end up back here at grad school, bless your fucking soul,” she joked. “I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. Don’t get me wrong being 23 and in school is better than still being in retail, but lord help me if I have to spend more time in fucking Podunk Vermont.” Stella swirled her drink and took another sip. 

“Also, thank you for not being one of those fucking know-it-all psych dudes that try and psychoanalyze you,” she scoffed. “Went on a tinder date with one, knew it was a mistake the moment I agreed. Showed up to a fucking fast food place. Within twenty minutes the dude is trying to tell me my biggest fears in life and my take on people’s perceptions of me. Like bro even analyzed my choice of white rice over brown. Got up and left early. Dude followed me to walk me back to campus.  I walked away from him and told him to fuck off. Because I was walking so fast he decided to grab my ass and let me know how thankful he was my ass was ‘not just cosmetic but functional’. I’ve resented psych majors since.”

     “I think if you say you are evil, that defeats the purpose. No, Stella, you’re not evil. You’re just a badass,” James replied, grinning. He clinked his cup against hers and took a deep sip. It was so hard to stop once he started in, so difficult to put an end to the desire for consumption. It was a dangerous path he tread, but it was one he refused to think of now. 

    James cocked his head to the side, brows furrowing as he studied her expression. “You don’t like it up here?” he asked, curious. Vermont was gorgeous, in his opinion. The breathtaking mountains, especially when covered in New England foliage, were stunning. It was easy to get lost here, in the beauty of it all. It calmed him. Made him feel at peace. “Why’d you choose to come here? Where you from, anyway?” he asked, unable to recall if he’d already asked her that. 

     “Christ,” James replied, half-amused and half-horrified. He didn’t know too many in his field that were that obtuse, but he supposed it could be easy to get wrapped up in all of the things they learned, applying the theories to people they knew. He often diagnosed himself with all kinds of disorders, some of which he had no symptoms for. But he never dreamed of blatantly analyzing another, especially on a first date. “Guess that’s what happens on Tinder. My-- few experiences with that.. Well, let’s just say they weren’t that great. But don’t worry, I ain’t about to analyze you.”

     “I’m completely aware of that,” Rhys said with a laugh, pushing his elbow into the other’s side after his smack. “You think we’ll have enough time for that before it starts to get cold? It always seems to shift over so quickly here. One moment it’s hot as Hades and then the next it’s cold enough to freeze your piss.” While he enjoyed the cooler weather, there was something about the hot summer days that he wished he could dwell in longer. There was a freedom beneath the stifling heat of the sun, the thought that one could lose themselves in a single blissful moment where the waves were crashing and laughter permeated the air. “I don’t know how far it is from here, I’ve never gone to the beach around these parts. I don’t know if I even thought to bring a swimsuit alongside all my leather jackets.”

     His gaze skated over James, taking in the genuine expression on his face as he revealed how close he was to his sibling. He knew it was weird for people who didn’t have a twin — difficult for them to understand — but his new roommate seemed to be trying. It was always complicated, trying to explain their connection, because so many individuals had strange preconceived notions about what twins were like, especially identical ones. “How much do you see your sister?” Rhys asked curiously, cocking his head to the side as he observed him. “All siblings have some amount of difference, but I guess it’s just easier with my brother because I know where he’s coming from. It’s strange. But no, we’re not getting a place together, at least not yet. I don’t think we’d do well off campus. He’s kind of a social butterfly, you could say. He likes hanging around people. I don’t know where he’s ending up. I told him to pick what he felt comfortable with and didn’t ask. Even though I know he wanted to be with me at school, I feel like I kind of dragged him out here, so I don’t want to crowd his space.” Shrugging simply, he dragged his fingers through his curls, unsure if his statement seemed to contradict his others. He knew that he would wind up spending plenty of time with his twin no matter where he ended up, so that was part of why he wasn’t particularly bothered.

     “What gave me away?” Rhys asked with a grin, his fingers fiddling with his eyebrow piercing. “I’m assuming if you can identify someone who is one, you’re a musician as well?” Laughing, he rolled his eyes, bumping James’ knee in return. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know, everything that I brought was essential. How do you expect me to go on with my life if I have to leave behind a single pair of leather boots? Some have chains, some have straps, you really don’t know what the occasion will call for,” he joked, snapping his gum between his teeth. It felt good to try and forget about everything else for awhile. For him to be able to focus on someone, allowing him to get out of his own head. 

     “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. You’re quick on the uptake, aren’t you?” Rhys teased as he pushed himself up from his spot on the loveseat, stretching his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up. “Well, then I’ll take the first one on the right, ja? I’m majoring in fine arts and minoring in psych. This is my senior year, actually. Which is a shame, because I like getting away from home. What about you?” 

     “YEAH WE JUST have to be hasty,” James replied. “Like-- absolutely no dicking around. We want to go to the beach, we go like... this week. Otherwise we risk a cold front fucking our chances until May.” What he would do for one last trip to the beach before summer faded to fall and then a brutal winter. The winters in Northern New England were quite different than on the Cape; but he enjoyed the change of the seasons, even the massive snowfall and frigid cold. There was something oddly cozy and inspiring about the weather. “Honestly, if you didn’t pack a bathing suit among all that---” he nodded towards the massive stack of suitcases “--I’d probably make fun of you until next year. But I have an extra you can borrow. I swim a lot.”

      There was the air conditioner. It kicked on with a soft hum from months of not being used and omitted a strange, musty scent. He shrugged as his head turned to meet Rhys’s gaze once more. “Oh-- I mean, quite a bit. We live at home over the summer and she’s a sophomore here, so we hang whenever our schedules allow. I kinda harass her a lot, though, y’know. Big brother duties and all,” James explained with a smirk. He and Eleanor had their own, unique relationship, and he was so happy she had chosen to go to school here. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he would have been a lot lonelier without her the previous year. He nodded, his brows knit as Rhys explained himself. He could understand, in a way. As much as he loved Eleanor, he knew they’d just step on one another’s toes if they tried living together at school, where they were encouraged to pursue their own interests and make friends. Their passions differed and she would do better in the company of people who shared her similarities and he the same; but it didn’t mean they couldn’t get together frequently and be there for one another. “I get that, yeah. Well, it’s good he’s close enough but not too close,” James stated with a soft laugh. “In proximity, I mean. I love my sister, but I think I’d probably go crazy living with her. It’s one thing to live with her back home, but here. It’s just different, y’know?”

      It excited him that the first housemate to arrive was also a musician. He’d been expecting painters and sculptors and designers; but it made sense the Art House would be a welcome home to musicians as well. “I am. Do you play anything? Sing?” James asked curiously, desperate to know more. All he wanted was to pick apart Rhys’s brain, to learn about his talents, to relate on what type of music they played and enjoyed, to have discussions on the topic he was most passionate about. “Oh yeah, ‘course. Wouldn’t want to accidentally wear the strappy boots on an occasion that’d require chained ones. Silly me. Though, my one pair seems to do the job no matter where I go. ‘Course, those are packed away still. Too hot for that shit. Speaking of- why aren’t you drenched in sweat? I mean you’re not exactly in the most-- heat forgiving outfit. This humidity’s going to kill me.”

       James sniggered, rolling his eyes as he turned his back, grabbing another one of his bags to move to his new bedroom. A psych minor. Rhys did look vaguely familiar and given that they were apparently in the same year, he wondered if they hadn’t had a couple classes together. “Oh yeah? I’m a senior, too. Psych major, chem minor. We ever take any classes together? You look a bit familiar. Or maybe I’m thinking of your twin,” James called from his bedroom as he set the bag on his naked bed and propped his guitar up against a neighboring wall. “What kind’ve art do you do? Besides music.” He returned to the living space for his last box and set this one on his desk. He popped it open, peering inside at his speaker and a stack of books carefully jammed in together. He pulled out the speaker first and plugged it in. Several moments later, after a brief struggle to get his phone hooked up with the school’s wifi, he connected to bluetooth and opened Spotify to play his favorite playlist. The first song that came on was a summer hit and it blasted through the stereo. 

Eleanor rolled her eyes at her brother. “Me? Crazy? Please,” she laughed as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t be carted out of here for the looney bin, I’d be carted out of here for…actually, maybe you’re right…” She thought again of her past and how her classmates never quite understood her, thinking her to be a little nutty. 

James reminded her that he was a senior, a thought Ellie was desperately trying to keep out of her brain. Because he was right; soon he would be gone, and Eleanor would be left alone, the only Platt at Cabot Creek. “Honestly, the thought of you not being here next year is a little terrifying, so let’s not start going down that path right now. I’m not ready to entertain the thought,” she felt her stomach wretch, wondering where he’d find himself next year. 

Ellie shook her head, “I thought we were done with the serious talk! Let’s get another drink. It’s a party for goodness’ sake! We should be celebrating and having a great time!”

      JAMES COCKED his brows as he watched his sister. A mischievous grin stretched his lips thin and he nudged her gently. It was tough knowing she hadn’t always fit in, but he always admired that she never seemed to care, either; at least not enough to make her change who she was for other people. 

       “You know I tease, Ellie. Anyway, they take you out’ve here for the looney bin and I won’t be far behind,” he assured, knocking her leg with his own.

     James’s lips pulled into a tight frown. “Hey hey,” he commented. “Didn’t know you loved me so.” James smirked, teasing her. This whole affection thing still escaped him despite his best efforts at stopping himself from shutting people out. “Anyway, we don’t know that for sure. Might come back for graduate school. We’ll see.”

       He released a long sigh and watched as she perked up. “Yeah yeah.” 

       She was right, of course. As one of the hosts, he knew he should pep up, should start a game or put on some party songs.

Something shifted in the younger male. Insecurity, perhaps? Who knew. West didn’t often get emotionally invested in the well being of others. Normally, in a scenario like this when James had sat down post crazy-ex-bitch-meltdown he’d have told the guy to sod off, but there was something about him in particular that had stood out, even when West had been teaching him.

He cleared his throat, confirming the older males suspicion. Had West’s nonchalant response been off putting? Again, who knew. He wasn’t about to comment further on a situation he was not privy too. Maybe that was his psychologist training or maybe it was simply the fact that he had his own demons to contend with. Still…

“I think you’re doing a damn good job juggling both.” A little validation could go a long way towards someone who never heard the slightest of it. James was clearly dealing with demons of his own, and something told West that the girl who’d just departed didn’t even scratch the surface. 

“Really?” Now he’d peaked West’s interest. He didn’t often boast the dream, though it didn’t change the fact that it was his dream. “That’s what I’m working towards too, opening my own practice.” He shrugged, thumbing the rim of his glass. “And yeah, wait till you get past undergrad. Everything changes.”

      JAMES GLANCED UP from beneath thick, dark lashes and smiled lightly. He was the last person to need validation, but it was nice to hear, anyway. 

       “Thanks.”

        Carbonated beer filled his belly and he knew he’d have to either stop and switch to hard liquor or give it a break. He pushed his half-full can aside and scrunched his nose as he listened to West’s insight. It was easy to dismiss professors whose age gap was so seemingly huge against his own that he knew it’d be impossible for them to relate to him and the current expectations set upon students and graduates. From what he’d heard, it was rare anyone found a well-paid job within their field upon finishing school. It was frustrating to face, knowing he’d have to work his way up while trying to pay off debt and survive on his own with more bills than he’d ever previously had if he wanted to live away from his parents. Nothing was a guarantee anymore. 

        But West. He was not much older than James and was in the midst of achieving the dreams James set for himself. He nodded quietly.