zoetrope

“I thought egging houses and cars and other shit ended, like, ten years ago. Didn’t know splashing paint on cars was a thing, either.” Davin groaned as he examined his freshly-painted and egged truck. He had been roaming around the new market in Westbrook just to get a feel of the market before he decided to head back to his truck only to find out that some people we’re still very immature and careless. “Of all the vehicles here, my truck just had to stand out to that asshole.”

"There’ll always be teenagers,” Eden said glumly, arms crossed to her chest as she observed the damage. She tilted her head to the side, but the damage didn’t look quite as bad to her as it did him. Paint was her element, she was used to being covered in its stains — and removing them. “Drive that thing over to my studio and I’ll have it clean in an hour, if that. But I d.on’t work pro bono so you’d have to find some way to repay me.” She was mostly joking. Mostly.

“Hey! You… Yes, yes you!” Luke half yelled as he jogged a few feet to catch up with the stranger. “I, uh… I think you dropped this.”

Connor looked at Eden, thinking for a bit, not sure if he actually did know her. Connor then shook his head quickly, “No. I don’t think so.”

“Then what the fuck are you staring at?” Really, he had the audacity to bump into her, then just gawk like that. It made her blood boil, transferring all her rage. “I’m not a zoo animal.”

“No problem.” Bash said with a smile, picking up the coffee, dumping a little too much creamer into it. “I’ve been in a living hell the past few days, sorry I kept rescheduling this. What’s up?” 

“It’s okay. I understand.” In her own worries, Eden had forgotten about Sierra. It was easy to, so many things had happened at that festival she’d rather forget. “How is she?” Eden would put aside her troubles for a moment, focusing on him. Maybe there were some things more important than her possible breaking of probation.

Connor walks down the road, his head in a book, once again. He does not see Eden trudging in front of him until it’s too late. Connor bumps into Eden, his book flying towards the floor. “Fuck..” Connor muttered and picked up his book. He looked at Eden and muttered a reluctant, “Sorry.” 

Eden gazed at him, stopping in her steps, regarding the boy with a cold demeanor.  Something about him seems familiar, though she can’t quite put a finger on it. Then again, she’s thisclose to disassociating completely. “Do I know you?”

“Hi,” Adam repeated and leaned his head down a little, aligning their eyes when he realized Eden might not have been int he best of moods. He watched her for a long silent moment, not sure if she was unhappy to see him, or if it was something else. Probably something else— or at least he hoped so. “Are you okay?” He finally asked, head leaning a little to the side. He wanted to know everything about where she had been, and what she was up to now, but that could definitely wait until he was sure she was okay.

"Y-yeah.” She nodded her head vigorously, like she was trying to shake out the bad with it, like that would ever work. “Yeah, I’m good. Just had a fight with Lav, kinda slammed the door in her face and left. You know, the usual.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” He shrugged, knowing that Eden wouldn’t accept that she really did help save him. That was just who she was. Amiri felt her shift awkwardly when his arm went around her shoulders, removing it after a moment because he didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable. “Well, then I suppose you’ll probably get something.” He chuckled, seeing the auction house ahead and walking inside as the door were held open. It was a grand lobby as they headed towards their seats, picking up their signs with numbers on them. “Do you know which artist they’re going to auction first?”

She smiled, looking down at the cobbled ground before them and shaking her head fondly. She could already tell he wouldn’t take no for an answer, but it wasn’t like the idea of owning any one of these pieces here, even a tiny A6 square of a sketch, make her feel an undeniable thrill. Eden took a seat beside him, hoping they wouldn’t auction off things too quickly — she actually wanted to get into the history of the works with him and maybe let Amiri leave having learned something. “Uh, I don’t know,” she shook her head, taking a seat and picking up her sign knowing it would be completely useless for her. “They did a lot of collaborations together, so some of them are joint works. Oh my god—” she touched his arm, pointing subtly at someone sitting four or five rows in front of them. A woman by the looks of it, with a razor sharp bob cut. “Is that Anna Wintour?” she declared in hushed tones. She didn’t keep up with the world of fashion, but even she could recognize the fashion mogul — and Sam Blackwood’s personal messiah.

Ever since the recent storm hit Lanford, his Uncle’s company had been supremely busy. It felt like more than half the town needed some sort of repair. The house that he was currently working just needed some supports changed, so Philip had offered to rush down towards the truck to grab a new plank of wood. 

“I’m not shaking in anything.” Quickly, she snatched the lighter, hastily igniting the cig before tossing it back as if it were toxic. “But maybe you’re too high on spray paint or whatever it is to realize that.”

“Sure,” she nodded, with a self-satisfied smile. She was sure Sam still remembered the makeup department incident, that it left a not too great taste on her lips. Remembering the way she ran, Eden had to bite down a chuckle. “I’m not, but how’ve you been? Still hitting the sauce? Scammed any rich brokers lately?”