ready, set, go

☼

Truthfully, the further she grows wine drunk, Georgina tries harder to fix her focus upon the canvas. It’s evident because the brunette felt a back spasm overtake her, which happens when she’s focusing too hard on something in specific, as it causes her mind to jump to the first assumption possible. That a bug is crawling over her. It’s not a work of art that would ever get hung in the museum, and what Geo thought to be her best work is proven opposite as Felix’s comment circles her mind. “Oh─” Darts from the confines of her mouth, taken back but gives her a reason to study her own piece.

After a fleeting moment, Geo observes her canvas with the latest painted addition. It’s dreadful looking and looks like painted cucumbers rather than pretty little trees. “You’re not wrong.” A brief pause, a soft sigh parting, “This proves that I suck at painting, but God, I seriously thought I was doing something for a moment ─ like I could sign up for a few more of these classes and show everyone what’s up,” she comments in a teeter. It’s a sad thought, but there’s no point in denying it to Felix. Her drunken haze made her feel like she has talent in every potential hobby. Nonetheless, the evening’s purpose is meant to be fun and something out of the norm in their routines, along with catching up after what’s felt like years.

Eventually, her hazel optics turn to Felix as her wine glass sticks out to cheers. “At least we’re trying new… that says something, right? That could be our cheers for the third glass.” It comes out with a vaulted brow, an upturn of her mouth corners rushing to the surface. Again, the unwavering optimism that follows through her will never vanish regardless of how petrifying the circumstances may be. If there’s one thing she likes to do, it’s sprinkling hope here and there. “We all have opinions whether we like it or not, but even when I twist your arm a bit, your painting looks so much better than mine.” 

.

Geo’s soft sigh and tipsy comment go by, listened to but unaddressed other than a soft sigh and a smile.  After a beat longer than is probably strictly necessary, Felix shakes her head.  “This doesn’t prove anything.  Maybe this just isn’t your genre.  Maybe woodland scenes don’t really inspire you.  Maybe if it was one of those classes with nude models, a life sketching or whatever it’s called, then it would be easier for you.”   She’d modeled in a few of those classes a time or two in college for some extra money.  Aly may be the only one who even knows and she opts not to divulge just now, but after a little more wine, she might.  Or, worse, she might demonstrate.  She makes an agreement with herself now to not do that.  Considering she sips at her wine after, though, it might be a loose or non-binding agreement.  She clinks her glass softly against her counterparts, then surveys both paintings.  “I think we’re doing just fine,” Felix says.  “After all, beauty and art are subjective.  There’s an audience for just about anything.  I’ve built a whole career on it, so you can’t tell me otherwise.”  She gestures toward her canvas with her mostly-empty wine glass.  “That even applies to purple penis trees.  Or the abstract beauty you have going on there.  I like the shade of green you chose.” 

SPECIAL DELIVERY TO: @felixwrigley​

LOCATION: Catalina Island Museum ─ Paint Class

DATE & TIME: January 22nd, at 8:30 pm

Wiggle it. Now go to the other side and wiggle it. You need a lot of paint in the bristles ─ the instructor of the Bob Ross painting class informs the room of twenty wine drink participants. The group, in surprising unison, has moved on to painting the tree portion of the portrait. Just as Georgina thought painting the sky was difficult, her hand’s persuasion needs to be precise, or it will look like a green blob. So, as any unskilled painter does, her hazel focus fixes on the palette than the canvas as she wiggles the brushes coated, chiseled edge in the approximate location. However, at the time of her concentration and what she feels looks like a masterpiece in her drunken state, she feels like something is crawling over her.

“Felix,” she hisses to her friend on Geo’s right side, keeping trained eyesight to finish off her tree. Or at least, what Georgina thinks is a tree. “Please tell me nothing is crawling on my back.” It’s probably not a bug at all, but a muscle in her back is twitching up. It hasn’t been the first, nor has it happened to her last time, but the brunette never knows what it truly is until asking someone to observe for safekeeping. So once the clearance from Felix is given and her initial drilled focus on the tree is complete, the woman sits back in the chair and grabs the wine glass. According to Bob Ross, the glass is a reward for what’s supposed to be a pretty little tree. Surprisingly, it doesn’t look bad. At least, this is what she’s going to continue to tell herself.

So, praising her painted tree amidst her drunken wine state, her hazel optics fall onto Felix canvases before dramatically gasping. “─ Is that a purple penis tree? Why is your tree purple?” Her hues divert from her canvas in rapid movements, then back to Felix, then her’s one last time. “It’s supposed to be dark green, Felix!”

.

She’s not drunk.  

She’s just not sober, either.

Which is making painting a supremely difficult, and not really a great idea.  At least, not if she’s hoping to get recognizable results.  It’s possible she’d gotten roped into this with Georgina Livingston, both friends with Aly and a name she recognized from life before, on the basis of painting something for Dominic’s tragically bare apartment.  Now she isn’t even sure she’ll make something worthy of leaving the back of her closet. I’ll probably keep it, she thinks, as she adds another splotch of color where it absolutely does not belong.  She’s not a hundred percent sure she takes the painting off the canvas before she leans to meet her friend’s request and look for bugs on said friend’s back.  “Nothing is crawling up your back,” she echoes, but she means it.  Nothing is.  When she sits back, it’s not because she’s finished the tree or anything else.  She lacks focus, but she doesn’t care.  The world is pleasantly blurred.  “Maybe it’s a purple penis tree.  It’s purple because that’s what color I had on my brush and maybe it’s a penis because it’s so far past time I got laid.  I don’t know.  Yours doesn’t look like a tree either, so eyes on your own canvas.”  Felix retrieves her wine glass and shakes her head with all the false prim she can muster.  “Everyone’s a critic, I tell ya.”    

While Dominic normally shied away from parties populated with people he didn’t know, he owed it to Felix to put in some effort. He found it difficult to turn off the bodyguard and soldier in him, the one that kept track of everyone’s whereabouts. It took a beer to relax and not glare at anyone who crept too close. 

His fingers closed on her waist to draw her closer when she appeared nearby. “I’m fine if you are,” he assured. He turned his head to gently bump hers and his hand fell to her side. “Though I’m certain you remember privacy’s never been a problem. I want you to enjoy tonight.”

.

Under his watchful eye, she’d already had two glasses of champagne herself, and fully intended to drink no more.  Even with a bodyguard, it didn’t appeal.  She wanted to dance and flirt and be on her A-game with him.  She did not want to spend the night with him holding her hair back or not doing that for her.  She went willingly into his embrace.  “I’m better than fine.  And I know the host, so I can probably find more private without too much effort.  But thank you for coming.  This is definitely more my scene than yours.” 

Felix had been mostly unsure about bringing Dominic to Aly’s house with her, not because it was New Years’ Eve, but because it wasn’t the same kind of vibe they normally had.  And while they were trying to stumble onto a new normal, the usual vibe was what she craved.  However, doubt had taken a backseat.  Now that they were at the party, it wasn’t the worst.  Aly always had a way to make an environment fun.  Felix had almost immediately kicked her shoes off, too, and now had no idea where they were.  She couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, really, because she hadn’t had much.  And almost anything in life was more fun without shoes.

Sidled up next to Dominic, though, Felix still went onto her toes so she could talk in his ear.  It probably wasn’t strictly necessary, given her own height, but she didn’t strictly care.  

“Having fun?” She asked.  “I can always find something a little more private if you aren’t.” 

As she surveyed the admittedly meager contents of her cupboard, she questioned what she was doing for at least the eighth time.  Just because she and Dominic (not Nic, which was still so strange) hadn’t exchanged crucial details like full name and actual history, it didn’t mean they didn’t know one another.  They’d done their on-and-off thing for four years, which was plenty of time to know the quirks of a person.  So why was she trying so hard to impress him now that she did know some of the bigger details?  It wasn’t a question that was likely to yield any answers tonight, and it wasn’t like she could just phone a friend.  It would be awkward at best to call Mason for this, and Aly definitely could burn water if she sat still long enough.  The name of their game in college had always been whatever food someone’s parents dropped off, or eating out.  There had been the one sorority sister who could do basics, but pancakes weren’t the most well-received food in a house where the occupants were generally going low-carb. 

She had managed a salad that had come in a kit, but the rest of the meal hadn’t worked out in the slightest.  As she hoped in vain for pasta or something, the doorbell rang, telling her she was completely out of time.  Her next best bet was to look hot and answer the door, both things she could manage just fine, thanks.  In spite of all the failure around her, including the lingering smell of something way overcooked, she answered the door with a pose and a smile.        

“So how would you feel about a slight change of plans?”                     

Aly: Lmfao, why???? Are you trying to poison him?

Aly: You know that thing old women say about the way to a man's heart being through his stomach is bullshit right? You just gotta do that thing with your tongue I told you about.

F: Can you please briefly explain to me why I do stupid things?

Aly: Idk but it's probably the only reason I convinced you to be my friend. 😘

Aly: What'd "stupid" thing did you do this time?

He looks at her, throws her a thumbs-up before propping himself up on his forearms and grimacing. His leg looks fine, but it hurts like hell, and he isn’t exactly sure that he could walk on it. “Fell on it, probably. Guess you are in better shape than me, huh?” Because of curse he has to make a joke, even in the most serious of situations. 

Attempting to stand only brings a shooting pain up his leg, and he groans. “Well, shit,” he says, sighing. “I can’t stand by myself, but maybe you can help me up? Drive me back home or something. It’s probably just a sprain.” Entertaining the possibility that it’s worse isn’t something he wants to do, because the nightmare of getting the producers to halt filming is more than he wants to handle right now. Really, what he should do is go to the hospital, but his aversions to hospitals run deep, even if it would be a simple x-ray to check for any breaks. 

.

Against her better judgment, she lets out a breathy almost-laugh and shakes her head.  The thumbs up is patently him but also patently ridiculous.  Not for the first time, she wonders how they’ve come this far because he has that element of playing things off that she definitely doesn’t.  She doesn’t really keep her cool.   And, right now, she’s trying really hard to keep it, but it’s not working.  She presses her hand to her forehead and watches him try to stand.  “More graceful maybe, but you outweigh me by like a hundred pounds, Mason!”   She bites her lip, debating for a moment, but once her mind is made up, it’s made up.  Going up is going to be easier overall because there’s a dirt road where she could probably get her small SUV.  In the short term, though, she’s not really sure of the logistics.  “We’re going up, hoping I don’t get hurt too, and then there’s every chance I’m not just taking you home.” 

Fe: It's been a minute so I'll remind you. I don't have any of that.

Nic: You'll need to find some. I think you can get some from the gas station around the corner.

Secret Santa 2020 | @ardinhirsch

~In a gold bag with white tissue on his doorstep. 

Häagen Dazs Non-Dairy ice cream (found with much research.)

Tums (not pictured - just in case she was wrong about the reason ice cream makes his stomach angry.)  

A bottle of Brachetto d’Acqui dessert wine. 

A waterproof beach picnic blanket.