I'm not much of a writer but I can give you some notes hahaha. Like, how confused but flabbergasted Miles is once he witnesses Phoenix' whole thinking and designing process. Plottwist, Phoenix is looking at a trash can and is like "OH I LIKE THAT FORM AND PATTERN I could use it for my next collection" and Miles is like wtf but the collection turns out to be superb and there's little to no trace of an actual trash can and Miles even more wtf -- SL
you spiked the shitty writer in me, bro
The First Meeting
"Excuse me, Mr. Wright, what on Earth are you doing?" Miles said as he stared at the designer looking at a trash can. It was a wavy, white and black polka dotted trash can with paint chipping off the sides. He was puzzled as to why Phoenix had taken such an interest in such a grotesque, smelly thing—but before he could gasp, the other man was leaning around the trash can and twirling it.
The male let out a happy sound as he said, “I love the form of this trash can.” Miles, however, was extremely confused as to what Phoenix was talking about. “The way it’s a pretty small opening then suddenly gets larger—then small again! The perfect idea! And look at that color! It’s perfect, don’t you think? I could use it for the next collection release!”
His eyes were sparkling, and Miles could tell, as he jumped to his sketching station. The Victorian designer admired the way Phoenix’s hands quickly flowed across the paper, sketching the perfect anatomy. Within what seemed like less than ten minutes, the brunet stood away from his design.Â
"It needs a little bit more work but it looks nice, don’t you think?" Miles squinted a bit as he glared at the design, that was a dress, trying to trace any sign of a trash can being the inspiration…but none was there.
He was ten times confused. It was a dress that had curves, just like the disposal bin did, but otherwise had no single message of “I USED A TRASH CAN TO INSPIRE ME.” It was short, unlike Phoenix’s trash can which stopped two-thirds the way up the desk (probably so a lot of drafts could fit in before they tossed it out, the other most likely went through dozens of sheets of paper in a day). Not only that, the polka-dotted pattern wasn’t used and the dress was a midnight blue!
Before speaking, he thought of how to put it bluntly—but not too blunt that it would hurt the other’s feelings. He admired the way he was able to think of something so quickly, but it bugged him! “Um, er—how do I put this,” the designer said, shifting in his seat a bit, “where is the trash can in this design? And how did you come up with something so quickly? It’s elegant—perfect for women who want formal attire, I will give you that much.”
And silence. Oh good, Miles thought, I have given the man hurt feelings. I should apol—
"What are you talking about," said Phoenix, looking legitimately confused, "you don’t get ideas like me? I thought—" Miles was flabbergasted.
"YOU THINK AN ORDINARY PERSON, MR. WRIGHT, GETS INSPIRED BY TRASH CANS?"
"…Um, I just did."
