Name&#x27;s Burke.

Aspect Ratio | Burke & Frankie | 2030

She was not interested in standing outside in the freaking windy city in an attractive but impractical dress. But look. There she was. Arms crossed and fuming as her idiot boyfriend got all flustered at her. “I’m a little more annoyed at the crap way you’re handling it. It could’ve been funny, or an interesting story, or closure or something. Instead you’re just being rude and paranoid that everybody is mad at you. Which is a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

She did try to be sympathetic. No not that. Empathetic. Better. It didn’t make her want to shake him less but it helped a little, he was nervous and uncomfortable and all of a sudden some girl showed up and he got all tense. Fine. She could deal with him being a butthead as long as he fixed it. “Look, you’re having a big night, fine. Just go back inside, either leave her alone or apologize for being snappish and nervous. She probably understands performance jitters.” Reluctantly uncrossing her arms and taking his hands in hers, Frankie held his eyes with like 30/70 niceness to emphaticness, “Just stop being a butt. I know you can do it. You’ve done it before.”

Frankie taking his hands calmed Burke down a little, for the first time that night, and he nodded at her words. "You, of all people, talking to me about playing nice. Who would have guessed?" His lips curled upward in a grin as Burke took a deep breath and pressed his lips to Frankie's forehead. These were the tiniest glimpses of whatever domestic lifestyle they'd accidentally fallen into. Burke hated to admit it, but they happened more and more.

He led her back inside slowly, making his way through the gallery back to where Anya was standing. "Anya," he said firmly but nicely, "I'm very sorry. I was an asshole then and I wasn't being much better now." Burke lifted Frankie's hand, which he had refused to let go of, and kissed the back of it. "I'm sorry again, please, enjoy yourself here tonight. I'm glad you could make it out." Admitting just how much Frankie had changed him made Burke feel those nerves again, but he didn't want to even think about that right now.

Aspect Ratio | Burke & Frankie | 2030

He could not possibly actually think that “down girl” was the best possible thing for him to say there. He wasn’t stupid. Frankie could feel one eyebrow arch into that place it went when she was trying to be adult about wanting to rip someone a new asshole, and it didn’t look like anyone else was planning on stopping her if she went for it. Casey, bless him, mostly just looked like he wanted to hide behind Mel. Smart boy.

"Anya. Annyyyaaa. Not Annie. Anya. And Rowan’s great, thanks, off conquering the world with a trail of men in her wake. Same ol’, same ol’." At this point, Frankie was really curious who would snap first, her or Miss Summer Fling. That was a flip nickname, but as accurate as Frankie could come up with at the moment. Refusing to look Burke in the eyes, she turned back to Anya and smiled, "So are you in Chicago for anything fun, or just passing through?"

"Work, I’ve got a meeting about a guest soloist season. Remind me to get your number, I’ll get you tickets, you two seem like the type who enjoy ballet." Money could be put on her referring to Mel, rather than Burke, but it would be a pretty obvious bet from the start.

Rolling his eyes, Burke looked at Anya. "Look, it's cool you're here. Enjoy yourself, but try not to piss off anyone else, okay?" He reached out and firmly put his hand on Frankie's wrist, pulling her with him. There was no way he could handle this with both of them. It was too much, too many people he'd offend with the honest truth. But Frankie, she was the one he wanted to focus on first. So Burke dragged her through the growing crowd, knowing full-well she wouldn't make a scene until they got away from everyone. He led her out the front door, stopping only once they were a few feet from the front door.

"What? What do I have to start with? Is it the way I treated her? You knew me back then, you knew I was an asshole who only cared about myself. I barely even cared about Casey when I met Anya, we had only just started being friends. So I don't think it's fair to hold that over my head now." Burke sighed, pulling his hand through his hair. "Is it the fact that she has a piece? Frankie, you knew that it was inspired by someone. It had nothing to do with the fact that I wanted to sleep with her. It was about the person she was. Anya was interesting, simple as that. Same as you and Mel. It's inspiration, you, of all people, should understand that it can't be controlled."

Aspect Ratio | Burke & Frankie | 2030

So, it wasn’t really a huge secret that Burke had been a dick when he was younger. Like, he’d been a dick plenty to her, this wasn’t news. She just really hadn’t been expecting such obviously gleeful dickishness, to the point that he’d decided to play with random girls. Nice girls. Girls that sort of reminded her of Mel in the way all girls she didn’t hate sort of reminded her of Mel.

To be fair, it had been over a decade ago, and Anya seemed to have moved on and was enjoying what was, by her account, a remarkably successful career. But still. “Can I ask how you didn’t stab him? Cause I came really close a couple times and all he did was sort of vaguely cheat on me. Technically we weren’t dating but it was a thing.”

"It was tempting, but it was right there at the end of camp, so I never got the opportunity, and after a few months it seemed silly to hang on to the bitterness. I mean, I was sort of hoping he was all miserable and alone and suffering the consequences of his actions, but that was run of the mill pettiness."

Frankie was half tempted to admit that he had basically followed his life plan out to it’s weirdly logical conclusion, but Casey was interrupting and calling Burke over, and Mel was being all sweet and Mel-y. And there was Burke.

Okay it’d been years and the whole thing had happened before she even met him but Frankie hadn’t had a good rage in ages, this was as good an opportunity as any. And Anya was handling it all much better than she’d expected, smiling politely, “Friend of mine mentioned I should come see the show while I was in town, she’s seen your work a few other places, and I figured it couldn’t hurt to drop by, see what you’ve been up to. Take a few pictures for Rowan, that sort of thing.”

"I’m almost sad I never went to this camp, Burke, it seems like it would’ve been really interesting. You and Casey always talked it up so much, I half assumed you were blinded by your mutual affection, but apparently it was much more inspiring than I thought it would’ve been.”

Not like she expected to be the only girl he ever made a sculpture representing, but it stung more than she liked to think about to know he’d done it to get in some poor girls pants.

#p:aspectratio #wow this is bad

"Down girl," he said toward Frankie, holding his hand up between them. "I know what you're thinking, trust me. It's not my finest hour. I was an ass, okay?" Burke tilted his head to the side, wondering what was going through Frankie's head. He looked at Anya, briefly seeing Mel give him a look of anger. No matter what he did from here out, it'd be a rough night. "Annie, I'm glad you came by. How is Rowan?" Burke didn't bother waiting to hear the answer, turning back to face Frankie.

Aspect Ratio | Burke & Frankie | 2030

She’d spent enough time with Burke to understand when he needed a little indulgence, and Frankie followed back towards a darkish corner and let him kiss her for a minute. They had time before things got hectic. Not a ton, but some. Pulling away and casually resting her hands on his in preparation, she tried an encouraging smile and mostly just landed the encouraging nod bit. “The dealer isn’t stupid, there were scheduling conflicts. And me doing it would’ve ended in blood and tears. Other people’s, mostly.” It was odd, explaining why she wasn’t the best person to do her job. She almost always was. “Plus this way I get to actually enjoy the opening.” It was really easy to pull his hands off her hips as though she were just fidgeting, a little distraction, “Hey, remember that time when were on spring break, and we were all in Myrtle Beach at the hotel pool and I pushed you in?” Hands on his shoulders, Frankie spun him around to face the growing crowd who, presumably, hadn’t seen them necking, “Time to jump into the deep end. Go be professional.”

There was something satisfying in walking away, which was probably a good chunk amusement and partly the fact that she really liked the dress she’d picked out. Frankie probably would’ve kicked someone in the shins if they’d said she’d be in the business of selling art rather than making it, but she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t good at what she did, which, among other things, meant she had a decent eye for when someone felt drawn to a piece. Much easier to bullshit someone if they thought they had a connection to it already, and the way the tiny, and intimidatingly muscular brunette was circling some of the older pieces on display, she was well past bland interest.

"Enjoying the show so far?" Good, casual, easy way to get more info to carry on the conversation with.

The woman smiled, nodding, “I am, thanks, it’s nice getting out to see the local talent while I’m in town.” She paused by a bronze bird, smiling smaller than it looked like she wanted to, “Do you know any of the stories behind these? Some artists won’t shut up about it, their muses and inspiration and everything, these seem kinda sparse.”

Frankie shrugged, “Some of them, there’s a lot of symbolism over here. It’s a lot of older pieces, based on people he knew. Or knows, sometimes.” Glancing down at the title card, she scrolled through stories trying to remember this particular piece, “I think this was a little before we met, though, it’s always just sort of been around.”

She did that smiling thing again, and nodded a little more emphatically, “He must have liked it, then, to keep it around so long.” Sticking out a hand, she spoke over the obvious look of curiosity, “I’m Anya, you didn’t mention your name?”

"Frankie," She had a firm handshake, this Anya. This could be all kinds of interesting stories once the night was over. "Girlfriend, and apparently free publicist. Hence the hovering."

Burke talked. He talked about inspiration, talked about techniques, talked about his childhood and how it impacted him. His parents were talking, Mel and Case were talking, and even Frankie was talking. He didn't get a chance to spend too much time looking at any of his people, knowing his focus had to be the ones who brought their wallet. If there was one thing people like this loved, it was anything that gave them a sense of being unique, even if it was completely false at the heart of things. Burke knew they loved his African childhood, so he played on that a lot, but he also talked about the two years he spent in the south, his time here in the city, and various random things that made the people connect with him in whatever way they needed to.

Casey recognized someone. Time had passed, Burke wasn't sure just how much, but he'd guess at least an hour. Looking at Casey, he knew that face, and he saw her heading towards the older work of his. It could be anyone, but the look on Mel's face meant it wasn't someone from Jameson. Seeing him hug a small, dark-headed girl, Burke took a deep breath in. "Shit," he mumbled to himself, handing the drink in his hand off to the closest person and moving towards his group of friends.

"Burke, look who came! It's Anya, from camp. Remember, that summer camp where we met?" Burke nodded, feeling like he was moving in some kind of slow-motion scene, wanting to get to her and see if this was even real. Mel and Frankie were sharing a look, and all Burke knew was the way Frankie's face was positioned meant hell. He finally got there as soon as Melody finished shaking Anya's hand.

"Anya," he said in shock, "what are you doing here? I mean, hi, but what are you doing here?" He glanced at Frankie, trying to decide just how much she'd heard at this point.

Aspect Ratio | Burke & Frankie | 2030

Mel would know how to handle palpitations, right? Cause Frankie had half an eye on her boyfriend/life partner and it was surprising that he could be more nervous than he had been that morning when she’d left to harangue the last minute installation staff at the gallery like it was hers, which it wasn’t. She knew the owner though. They’d gotten along like wildfire at that show in Miami a few months back. So she was totally justified in showing up to make sure every light and curtain and canape was exactly in it’s proper place.

It was possible she was nervous on her own. Like, secondhand nerves. Because Burke had been practically vibrating for days and it had to have rubbed off. On top of his parents being there, which he was a lot more okay with than she was, and it was still kind of a shock she hadn’t been called a hussy for all they approved of her.

Mel and Casey, bless them, were keeping the conversation up between them, so it wasn’t like she had to do much more than nod and hum and move her drink from hand to hand as though she was listening. Burke and his trademark optimism were a change of pace, definitely, from ER horror stories (the range of things people shoved up their butts was terrifying), but it was his night, so he did sort of have the right to drive the conversation. “Only barely. It’s been open for like 10 minutes, give people a few minutes to pregame. Gotta work up the esoteric bullshit.” He was really almost cute when he was freaked out. “You’re gonna have to shmooze in a few minutes when they show up in full force. Talk about the emotional palette. Motivation and inspiration. They eat that shit up.”

"I don't want to bullshit," he grumbled, his upper lip curling slightly. The idea of talking with people about pieces they didn't understand completely was appalling. Burke played with his lip ring, throwing a glance towards his parents. "Hey, come on," he whispered, pulling Frankie off away from everyone, working even further back into the art gallery. "I don't get why we had to do this here, like yours isn't good enough or something. That stupid dealer and his stupid ideas, we should fire him after this," Burke spoke softly, pulling her around another corner before pushing her gently against the wall, running his hand through her hair and pressing his lips to hers. Kissing Frankie was good, it gave him a sense of normalcy he hadn't had all night.

#p:aspectratio #p:future #jamesonfuture #2030

Aspect Ratio | Burke & Frankie | 2030

Burke was nervous. He'd never known nerves quite like these, not even when he first started doing commissioned work for people across the country. These days, his sculptures were everywhere. Well, they were on both coasts and scattered between, but they weren't "everywhere" or anything. But here he stood, elbows on the bar that had been tucked away in one of the rooms of Aspect Ratio, the art gallery that he was using for his first real show. It wasn't an exhibit, he'd done plenty of those, picking a handful of pieces to show off in a room or row all together. This was different. He was selling the pieces, all twenty four of them, and they were going to the highest bidder at the end of the night. It felt cheap and like he was selling his soul, but he'd been so overwhelmed with preparing that he didn't feel much of anything.

"Thanks," he said to the bartender as he knocked back the shot she'd handed him. She was talking, politely, about how the artists were always really nervous, but things always turned out. Burke hated her polite conversation, and he was in no mood to tolerate it simply because he had to. Shoving a ten into her tip jar, Burke turned and scanned the room, carefully avoiding the eyes of his parents who were still extremely unsure of how to handle this entire thing. They'd never taken him seriously when it came to art, but he'd somehow made a living thus far, so they felt obligated to come to his show knowing full-well that it meant he'd be rolling in money by the end of the night. There was probably pride or something there, Burke didn't care either way.

He smiled at Frankie, heading her direction. She was talking to Mel and Casey, who had thankfully agreed to come tonight despite how busy they were with twin daughters and Mel being an E.R. doctor or whatever it was she called herself. She saved lives, Burke knew that, but right now he needed something more real. He flexed his fingers into straight lines as he dipped down and slid his hand into Frankie's, holding her hand and hoping she didn't make fun of the nervous twitching his kept doing. "I think it's officially started. Nobody's here, which is really an excellent sign." Burke's sarcasm had never faded much, but he didn't mind.

virginia-beaufort-blog

No, no, you haven’t missed it yet. She’s totally excited but the nerves are obvious. I don’t think the reality has really hit her yet. My little girl’s not so little anymore.

It's a big world, she'll learn fast enough. I hope she just doesn't hate it too soon. She's smart, though, she should love school.

littlemissweatherby

That’s true. I can see y’all fitting in pretty well there.

Frank and I, definitely. Casey was a shoe-in, too, but somehow we all relied on Mel to make the decision of where we'd end up.

littlemissweatherby

Yeah I get that. That’s awesome.

Plus, my niche is all there. Can't complain about that.

littlemissweatherby:

What can I say… How is Chi Town? You never answered the question!

It's awesome, duh. I didn't move to the city because it sucked. You know that.

littlemissweatherby

Yeah I wasn’t really one of those girls, but things happen I guess. Thanks Burke. How is Chi Town?