Finn pulled open the door to his apartment, one hand on the doorknob and the other on Kieran’s shoulder. They walked over to the couch, and Finn set Kieran down.
“Jeez, you can’t even walk. How much did you drink?” Finn asked, exasperated.
“I lost count around 12...”
“Gotta do somethin’ to shut my head up…”
“What do you mean?”
“…y’ever get sick of thinking? ‘s like that.”
Kieran turned himself and lay on the couch, letting out a breath.
“Now, I got a question, Blake,” he declared.
“What the hell’s your first name? I can’t remember for shit right now. ‘s driving me crazy.”
“What, like, Finnegan? Finnegan, begin again?”
“Huh? No. Just Finn.”
“What are you, a fish? Finnegan’s better, I think. Way better. Tell everyone, that’s your name,” he rambled. “You know, I remember your name now. I mean, you told me, but I remember knowing it. Before. You know?”
“I suppose,” Finn responded, holding back a laugh.
“That’s your name now, remember, Finnegan.”
“Why is that my name, now?”
“Because it’s better, were you listening?”
“You’re really weird, when you’re drunk.”
“You’re always weird. This place is so fuckin’ clean. It’s crazy. And you got all these books. And, you go makin’ friends with dumb people. And I don’t even mean that hipster kid, I mean, me. Dumb. A drinker who paints. A painter who drinks. Heheh. Sorry, that’s funny. I don‘t know why.”
“Do you really have such a big problem with yourself that you can’t imagine someone trying to be your friend?” Finn asked.
They were both quiet for a moment.
“I… don’t know,” Kieran said. The pause continued.
“Hey, do you mind if I call you Kieran? Instead of ‘Sullivan’… it feels weird calling you that when I’ve gotten to know you a bit better,” Finn asked.
“Sure, I don’t care, call me whatever you want,” Kieran answered.
“Okay. And, you can call me Finn,” Finn replied.
The city outside grew louder. The midnight countdown started. Kieran and Finn listened, for a moment. There was an uproar.
“Happy new year,” Finn said.
Assorted morning sketches including WIP -
2 months ago