Joey found Pacey after school, standing before her wall, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Silentily she joined him, standing to his left. She looked up at her work through his eyes. Would he notice the two lovers? How did he feel about her painting? Did he see the connection? Would he tell her if he did? They remained still in companionable silence, content to just be there, sharing the mural with one another.

"I hope you don't mind." She spoke up after a few minutes.

"Mind what?" he asked. never moving his eyes from the wall.

"That I used True Love in the mural." She answered, watching him out of the corner of her eye. His face remained passive, emotionless.

"I would think you'd be more concerned about how I feel about you painting me into the mural." Startled, she turned her head back in his direction, he didn't look at her and his face betrayed none of his thoughts.

"You?" She questioned suspiciously, hoping to get him to elabortate.

"There." He pointed to the corner where the male stood looking out at True Love.

"I'd forgotten for a moment how out of control your ego is." She smiled to herself, "Who said it was you, Pacey?" She squinted at him, watching him gaze at the painting.

"Are you saying it's not?" he challenged quietly.

She didn't answer.

The unexpressed thoughts and feelings weighed down on them as they stood side by side, absorbing her work. "Most people don't notice them," She commented after a while.

"Most people don't know the artist." He replied quietly.

"Dawon didn't notice." She thought back to the conversation she had wtih him a few days ago. Dawson only saw what he wanted to see.

"I'll rephrase," Pacey smiled, "Most people don't know the heart of the artist."

"And you do?" Joey challenged, her voice held a hint of hope.

He was silent for a spell, choosing his words carefully. "At one point I thought I did. Now," he paused, "Now, I just know what to look for."

She nodded slightly, there wasn't anything for her to say in response. Silence fell between them again, their thoughts taking over. Joey's mind drifted back to what brought her looking for him, Andie.

"Were you really miserable?" she blurted out, her voice louder than she had anticipated.

He looked surprised, "Miserable?"

She swallowed, a faint blush creeping up her neck. "With Andie."

"Ahh," he said when she clarified the question. "I wouldn't say we were miserable."

"Jack did," Joey replied quietly. "He said it was time and everyone knew it." She paused, "Did you know it?"

He sighed, his eyes directed at the ground. "Yeah, I knew it. Andie knew it. Apperently, everyone else knew it."

"I didn't." she whispered. "I should have known, but I didn't. I'm sorry, Pace."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Jo."

"Yes, there is. I should have known about this. As a friend, I should have known."

He was quiet, "Maybe... maybe you didn't notice because you didn't want it to be true," he explained.

"Why wouldn't I want it to be true?" her brow wrinkled.

"Because then you'd have to rethink your relationship with Dawson."

"Rethink my..." she echoed, refusing to let herself think over his words.

"Nevermind," he told her. " Maybe you were busy with other things.

"I shouldn't ever be too busy for my friends." She said, guilt creeping in on her again.

"It's okay, Joey. I've been expecting it for awhile."

"How long?" She asked nervously.

"From about the time we got together."

"B-but that was months ago!" she stuttered.

"Yeah, I know."

"I thought you guys were happy...?"

He chucked mirthlessly, "We fooled everyone for a while... ourselves included."

"Why?" She asked confused. It didn't make sense. If Andie didn't make him happy, why had he gone back to her?

"We both went back to what was comfortable. She needed someone to support her, and I needed someone who..." he trailed off uncomfortable.

"Someone who what, Pacey?"

"Someone who wanted to care about me." he finished, his voice held a hint of anger.

"So you went to the nearest available warm body?" She asked condesendingly.

He snorted, "I believe you did the same thing, did you not?"

"Only after you did," her anger mounted. "You didn't even have the guts to tell me. I had to find out by walking in on you guys making out!"

"You call a single kiss making out?" He countered.

"Maybe not, but if I hadn't walked in you and I both know where it would have led."

"Let's not do this, Joey." He groaned, "If we start, we wont stop until one of us goes too far."

"Fine," she sighed, she really didn't want to argue with him over events four months ago.

"Anyway, Andie and I, we came to a silent agreement." Pacey felt the need to explain what happened, "She agreed to forgive and I agreed to forget everything that happend last year and we were back together. It was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement... until someone else came along... I guess she found her 'someone else'."

"And that doesn't bother you?" She asked in muted disbelief.

"Only because I'm not with my 'someone else'." He looked down at the trampled ground at his feet. "If I were, I'd be happy for her."

Joey nodded, not interested in hearing about his 'someone else'. "I thought you loved each other," her voice was subdued, almost dissapointed. She'd given up on him because she thought he wanted Andie. That he loved Andie. Maybe if they hadn't turned to each other for comfort things between herself and Pacey would be different now...

"We do, but not like we used to. We weren't in love. You can only be in love with one person."

"Your 'someone else'?" Joey supplied.

"My 'someone else'," he agreed. The quiet enshrouded them, each lost in their own thoughts.

"It truly is beautiful, Joey," he piped up, sincerity ringing in his voice.

She shrugged, "It took me awhile to find my inspiration."

"And what was it?"

She paused at length, her brow furrowing as she tried to come up with an answer that would be suitibe to give him. She searched the painting, "Turmoil." she answered finally, the words written clearly in the myriad of colors before her. "The confusion that exists between duty and desire, friendship and love..."

"Turmoil, huh?" His eyes finally left the wall and found hers. "I see it. The storm signifies the confusion, it pulls everything that it touchs into it, the grass, the water, the very people, and yet, True Love is ammune to it." He said slowly, lettin the words sink in. "It's more than just a summer storm, right? It is the painting."

Joey nodded, his interpretation was closer to how she viewed her work than Dawson's was. That said something about them didn't it?

Pacey's brow furrowed as he stared at the heart of the work. "The calm is like their goal. The lines and colors are so sharp there." He gestured to the work, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's sad... the goal, True Love, is bright and clear, beautiful and waiting, while the world thunders around it."

"And... and the two figures?" She asked tentitvly, afraid to hear his answer, yet unable to resist.

His eyes flitted back and forth between the man and woman. "The woman, she's reaching out for the boat, desprite to get to reach True Love. She yearns for the warmth and calm and serenity it provides."

"And the man?" She choked out.

"The man is resigned to the storm." Pacey answered softly, "Look at him, his stance, the slump of his shoulders... he's given up trying to reach True Love."

"He shouldn't," She muttered. Then quickly added, "That wasn't what I meant to paint."

"But it is what you painted." He insisted his voice low. "Look at his eyes, what you can see of them, they aren't looking at the boat, he's looking at her." Joey nodded, "He's content to be caught in the storm... because that's where she is."

"He's content with that?" She asked, her arms wrapping around herself for the comfort she knew he couldn't offer, the comfort she knew she couldn't accept.

"What's the point of reaching True Love alone?" he asked rhethorically. "Besides, what other choice does he have? He's waiting out the storm. And as long as she's there waiting with him, he's content."

"And if when the storm's over and she's not there?"

"I don't know," he frowned, "but I get the feeling she's not going anywhere. There is hope in this painting, the break in the clouds and the golden light shining down... the storm can't last forever. Eventually it will die out."

"You think so?" she asked hopefully.

"I do." his eyes met hers, her hand stretched halfway through the distance seperating them and found his hand waiting. Their fingers enterwined and they turned their eyes back to the wall. "... and like I said, I'm content to wait as long as you're waiting too."

« Previous / Next »

Please send feedback to RinJJ61178@hotmail.com.