Quinn Osbourne is pleased when good looking and friendly Jacob Beauregard moves into the apartment next to his. They hit it off, and even though Jacob is apparently straight, they quickly form a friendship. Jacob is wowed when he discovers that Quinn is not only an artist, but also The Banished, a street artist who paints large murals around Brooklyn. During an expedition to show Jacob his latest effort, Quinn sprains his ankle badly and is confined to his bed with a cold compress and unrequited lust for Jacob.
Fogged by pain and alcohol, Quinn orders himself a naughty toy for Christmas. He is mortified when he realizes the gift was delivered to Jacob. How on earth can this embarrassment be resolved to everyone's satisfaction?
“I don’t see anything,” Jacob whispered as Quinn climbed on top of a dumpster. “What are you doing?”
“You wanna see it or not?” Quinn said before turning and taking a running leap, grabbing the bottom rung of a fire escape and swinging it down with practiced ease. He held it down and waited for Jacob to get a grip on it before heading up. They ascended the two floors before emerging on the roof of the gray concrete structure. On top of it was a billboard advertising a law firm, but the back of it was something different entirely.
One of the spotlights had been detached, so it shone on the back of the billboard instead of the front. It’s bulb swapped out for an intense black light.
The sun had already gone down, so the effect was something to behold. The image was not dissimilar to the deep-sea creature, the nautilus. Except instead of a spiral shell, there was a human skull. It’s mouth open and screaming as a jubilee of tentacles and one solid eye emerged between its teeth. Behind it was the blackened silhouettes of fish, some being consumed by the abomination. Tiny dollar signs adorned their iridescent sides. The whole image was done in neon photosensitive paint that glowed brightly in the darkness.
Quinn glanced over and enjoyed the wide-eyed look on Jacob’s face. “What do you think?”
“This might be the best one I’ve seen yet. Please tell me you got a picture. The camera on my phone is broken.”
Quinn scoffed. “Of course I did.”
“How did you even get up there?” Jacob gestured to some of the glowing fish, nearly fifteen feet up the billboard.
Quinn crossed his arms proudly. “I have climbing gear and a poor sense of self preservation.”
“Q, for real, this is --”
A loud bang came from the door at the far end of the roof and a bright light was suddenly shining in their eyes. An angry voice yelled. “Hey! Who’s up here?”
“Shit, run!”
They both took off toward the fire escape as the heavy footfalls of the man holding the flashlight pursued them. Jacob made it there first, quickly descending the metal ladder with Quinn right on his heels. The man was only one landing behind them when Jacob reached ground level. He was holding the ladder as Quinn hurriedly stepped down. He was halfway down the ladder when a beefy hand grabbed the hood of Quinn’s sweatshirt. He choked as he strained against the grip and managed to pull free but lost his footing.
The pain that lanced through his ankle was intense. He was unsure if the white light in his vision was from the flashlight or the pain, but before he could process what was happening, he was picked up like he weighed nothing and slung over Jacob’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes as they moved swiftly through the dark streets.
Quinn was holding on to the back of Jacob’s hoodie for dear life as they traversed several blocks before finally slowing down and tucking into a bodega. Jacob slowly lowered Quinn down against the cold drink display before looking back out the door to see if they were being pursued.
An elderly Indian man regarded them with mild annoyance from behind the counter. Quinn waved at him apologetically. “Sorry, we’ll be out of here in a s -- Ah!” He tried putting weight on his foot and hissed. After sliding down to his butt on the floor, he pulled his pant leg up. A nasty purple bruise was already forming on the outside of his left ankle.
Jacob was there at his side, evaluating the damage. “Oh, yeah. That’s a sprain I think.”
Quinn nodded. “Yeah, not my first. Won’t be my last.” He tried to get back up on his good leg, but Jacob held him down with a hand on his shoulder.
“Sit tight for a sec.”
Quinn relented. “I’m not going anywhere fast.” The dull throb in his ears still made everything sound distant. At least he was fairly sure he wasn’t going to pass out at this point. He watched as Jacob went down some of the narrow aisles, emerging near the register with a handful of items. A leg wrap, a small bottle of pain killers, and a few chemical ice packs. He paid for them and returned to where he left Quinn.
“Alright, let’s get you home.” He helped Quinn to stand, again moving him like he weighed nothing.
“No, dude. You have a date. Just leave me. I’ll call an Uber.”
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